


That's What You Get for Waking up in Vegas

by FallingLikeThis, Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Drinking, FLUFF EVENTUALLY, Falling In Love, Love/Hate, M/M, Marriage Counseling, Marriage Proposal, Movie Adaptation, One Shot, Plotting, Sabotage, Top Harry, Vegas Wedding, Very loose What Happens in Vegas au, Woke Up Married, alcohol use, poor decisions, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 07:56:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 58,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7214104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/pseuds/FallingLikeThis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles' lives go to shit they both have the brilliant idea to escape it all and head to Las Vegas for a much needed break from the real world. It's not until they wake up the next morning with hazy memories and cheap plastic rings on their fingers that they realize their troubles have only just begun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's What You Get for Waking up in Vegas

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another What Happens in Vegas au, because why not?

He hadn’t realized it, but up until about thirty seconds ago, Louis had been having a pretty spectacular day. His step-father had left the office early which left Louis in charge, which meant work stopped almost immediately and absolutely nothing was accomplished for the remainder of the day. He would probably kill Louis if he found out, but it’s not like anyone complained about getting a free pass all day or catching the end of the game that Louis’ step-father was too much of a dick to let any of them watch. Louis did everyone including himself a favor. He should be celebrated.

 

After such a great day at work, he and a couple of guys decided to get some dinner and then thought it would be an even better idea to go out and get some drinks. He spent the early parts of the night flirting with men and choking down shots, but when the time came to pull one of the guys that couldn’t take their eyes off of him, Louis’ brilliant brain had suddenly remembered Alex and the fact that he didn’t have to.

 

Alex was thrilled to get the call to meet Louis at his flat, he wasn’t even wearing a shirt when Louis opened the door, just a pair of old jeans and a jacket thrown over his bare chest as he stepped inside.

 

Sex with him has been amazing for weeks. Lately, Alex is the person he calls when he’s feeling stressed out or too tense from work and his step-father always breathing down his neck, and Louis has no problem going over to Alex’s when it’s him who needs someone to help relieve some of life’s tension. It’s easy and it’s a great system, or at least it was a great system up until about thirty seconds ago.

 

“Louis? Did you hear what I said?”

 

Louis is incredibly still where he’s lying with his face turned away and hidden. If he’s still and quiet enough Alex might think he’s sleeping.

 

“Louis. Answer me. I know you’re not sleeping yet.”

 

Well, so much for that.

 

Louis rolls over to greet him with his most charming smile in place. “Sorry, love. I must’ve drifted off.” Louis drops a kiss to his chest and starts moving up the base of his neck. Alex’s eyes flutter closed with each touch of his lips. Louis’ hand innocently wanders down beneath the sheets, but Alex isn’t letting Louis distract him quite so easily.

 

“Louis.” Alex sighs when he reaches down to stop his hand. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation here.” Louis sighs and rolls over onto his back. He used to be so good at distracting people. He turns back onto his side and props himself up on one elbow when Alex’s gaze is still fixed on him. Alex had looked pretty cross, but his features have softened now that Louis has given him his full attention. “Are you going to come to my father’s birthday party or not? You don’t even have to stay the whole time. You could just drop by and meet everyone if you want.”

 

Louis would prefer to do none of the above actually. “Uh, which day is it again? I hope it’s not on Saturday,” Louis laments. “I have to go out of town for a thing with my step-dad that day.”

 

Alex’s face falls. “What kind of thing? Can’t he go without you?”

 

“Well, no, not really. I’m going to take over the business one day. I’m supposed to be learning from him.”

 

Alex narrows his eyes at him in what Louis hopes is sympathy for him having to shadow his step-father, but it turns out to mostly be suspicion.

 

“You’re lying. You never do anything your step-father asks you to do. You just don’t want to meet my family. Admit it.”

 

Louis’ mouth falls open at such a wild accusation, but honestly, Alex’s guess it isn’t that far off. He’s already pulling away from Louis before he can explain himself. “I just don’t understand why you’re doing this,” Louis whines. “Why can’t we just keep doing what we’re doing? I thought we were having a good time.”

 

Alex sits up and starts looking for his clothes. Louis can’t say that he’s all that surprised.

 

“We were having a good time. We are having a good time,” Alex corrects himself, “But I want more than that from you and I think it’s pretty obvious that you don’t,” he snaps.

 

Alex pulls on his clothes and Louis doesn’t even try to stop him.

 

“I had already told you that I’m not into relationships. You said you were fine with that,” Louis argues.

 

Alex stands at the door, imploring Louis with his eyes to try and stop him or at least care that he’s leaving. He lets out a bitter laugh when Louis doesn’t even blink. “Well, I’m not fine with it anymore,” he says just as the door shuts behind him.

 

“Bye,” Louis sadly mutters to no one as he flops back against the bed. He’s gone a whole minute before Louis starts to feel guilty and then he’s angry for Alex making him feel anything at all. This was the deal when they started sleeping together. It’s not like Louis hadn’t warned Alex before getting involved with him, and now he’s acting like a child because Louis doesn’t want to commit? This isn’t even really his fault, Louis realizes in a moment of great clarity. It’s Alex’s. Louis did nothing wrong.

 

 

 

Last night is already forgotten as Louis cheers on his team with the other intelligent half of his step-father’s employees, because honestly, what’s the point of even watching football if you’re not going to support the greatest team to ever exist?

 

His heart stops as he watches the man on the screen run across the pitch to score the winning goal, running until there are less than one hundred yards to go, then fifty, and then twenty and then he’s right at the goal line, just pulling back to let the ball fly into the pocket of the net and then the large screen goes black.

 

“What the fuck just happened?!” Louis whips around to see which idiot just ruined his entire life by making him miss history being made. His chest deflates when he sees the remote being squeezed to death by his step-father’s grip. Louis lets his mouth snap shut before further incriminating himself.

 

“Everybody out,” he says in a low voice that even has Louis scrambling to leave. “Everybody except you.” His eyes land on Louis as everyone else hurries to clear out of the tiny office. Louis wishes they would take him with them. He starts explaining as soon as the door shuts.

 

“I know you left me in charge, and I made sure that we took care of everything you said, but the game was on, and I had only slipped away for a few minutes to check the score and then a couple of the guys came in and the game was really close, and-” He doesn’t look at all convinced that this was all some big misunderstanding, so Louis tries a different approach. A humbler approach. “Okay, okay, I fucked up. I know. Dan, I’m sorry. Can you give me another chance? I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’ll even come in early on Monday to make sure-”

 

“No more chances, Louis.”

 

Louis breathes a laugh at Dan’s serious tone. “Look, I know I messed up today, but-”

 

“No, Louis.” Dan shakes his head when Louis continues trying to talk his way out of trouble. “I meant it. I’m through giving you chances and hoping you’ll grow up. Your mother will be upset with me for doing this, but I think she’ll agree that you’re just not ready.”

 

Louis’ smiles fades as his step-fathers words start to sink in. “Dan? What the hell are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying you’re fired, Louis.”

 

“You can’t just fire me,” Louis glowers. “I’m your son!”

 

“You’re only my step-son, as you so rudely like to remind me and your mother almost every day, and yes I can. I’ll give you until the end of the day to clean out your desk. I’ll let your mother know.”

 

“Don’t bother.” Louis scoffs at him as he turns to leave.

 

Louis doesn’t stop to say goodbye to anyone and he definitely doesn’t clean out his fucking desk when he storms out onto the street. He takes out his phone to call and complain to his mother, but he stops when he realizes that she’ll mostly likely take Dan’s side since she’s been yelling for him to take responsibility for things too. He calls his best friend Niall instead. Niall always takes Louis’ side.

 

*

 

“I can’t believe he fired you! Just like that!”

 

“I know!” Louis agrees, accepting the new beer that the bartender hands him. He opened a tab with the company card a couple of hours ago and since then he has been drinking as if his life depends on it. Dan will get the bill and be furious. It’s a fantastic plan. “He kept looking at me all disappointed and shit like he was trying to make me feel bad or something!  It was ridiculous, Ni. I wish you could’ve been there.”

 

Niall shakes his head as he finishes up the last of his beer and flags down the bartender for another. “I still can’t believe it. Like, what are you going to do for money and stuff?”

 

Louis’ eyes glance over at his step-father’s card that he thankfully forgot to take back. “I’ll be fine for a while. It’s not like Dan will miss the money.” He’ll have a cow over the bill he’s racking up, but oh well. It serves him right. “God, I fucking hate him. All he cares about is his stupid business and his stupid money. I should max out his fucking credit card. That’ll teach him.”

 

“Oooh!” Niall’s eyes light up. “Lets! I love spending other people’s money. We should like, fuck off to Paris or somewhere. Get fucking wasted and party for a few days.”

 

That sounds heavenly right about now. Louis laughs just imagining how much trouble he and Niall could get into in Paris. They both almost got arrested there the last time they went. It was great. “What if we go back to Copenhagen?” Louis suggests. “We only spent like two days there when we went.”

 

Niall shakes his head at that. “No, no, no. We’ve been there before and it wasn’t even all that fun. We need a fresh start. Somewhere we’ve never been. Somewhere wild…” He and Niall fall silent as they try to think of a place that fits the description. Niall gasps when an idea suddenly hits him. “We should go to Vegas.”

 

Louis’ face scrunches up into a frown before he starts laughing at the idea. “Ni, you want to go to Vegas? It’s not very original and it’s in the middle of the fucking desert.”

 

“Fuck original and fuck the desert! Everyone has fun in Vegas! It’s the one place in the world where it’s okay to be a drunk and act like an idiot. You can do whatever you want there!”

 

Louis glances at Dan’s card again, just itching to buy a set of plane tickets. He turns to Niall with an excited smile he hasn’t worn in a while once his brain starts slowly accepting the idea. Vegas.

 

“Niall. Are we actually doing this? You’d go with me just like that?”

 

“You think I’m going to pass up on a free trip to fucking Vegas? What the hell’s wrong with you?! We should’ve left like yesterday!”

 

“Alright, then it’s settled! We’re leaving as soon as possible! We’re going to Vegas!”

 

Niall stands up from his stool and cheers as Louis laughs, already pulling out his phone to check flights. He can’t believe he didn’t think of Vegas himself. This is going to be amazing.

 

 

 

~*~

 

Harry hums along to his ‘running’ playlist as he mixes a kale and banana smoothie in the blender. There’s nothing better to start your day off than having a nice long jog through Hyde Park and a healthy breakfast. He’s still got an hour to drink his smoothie, get in the shower, and get ready for work. If he hurries, he may even have time to squeeze in a surprise blowjob for his sleeping boyfriend. He bites his lip, calculating his free minutes as he pours the smoothie into two sports bottles. Yeah, he thinks he can fit in a blow job.

 

Harry drinks his smoothie quickly, placing the other in the fridge for Isaac when he wakes up, and hurries through his shower. He towels off thoroughly when he gets out before climbing back in bed still naked.

 

Isaac stirs as Harry pulls the sheets back to sink underneath.

 

“Hey,” Isaac says as he wakes, blinking first at Harry, then turning to blink at the clock, checking the time.

 

“Morning,” Harry answers with a soppy grin. He likes when he can fit a few lazy minutes with his boyfriend into his busy schedule. He moves to cuddle Isaac but Isaac is sitting up abruptly.

 

“Is that the time? Shit. I’m late,” Isaac freaks out, tearing the sheets away from him and leaving Harry all alone in their bed with a frown on his face.

 

“What are you talking about?” He asks, leaning up on his elbow as he watches Isaac scramble to get dressed. “You don’t have to be at work until eight.”

 

Isaac glances at Harry over his shoulder and freezes for a second before he starts moving again, a flurry of movement as he rushes around. “New project,” he answers vaguely. 

 

“Oh,” Harry hums to himself, flopping back down on the bed. Well, there goes that blowjob. “You should have let me know. I would have set an alarm for you.”

 

Isaac stops moving again, staring at Harry for a second. There’s something sad in his eyes, like regret, and Harry gives him a reassuring smile. It’s nice to think that Isaac regrets having to leave him. 

 

Isaac’s gaze falls to the floor and he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, shirt only half buttoned, belt still unbuckled. “There’s something we should talk about,” he says, and Harry crawls over to massage his tense shoulders.

 

“We’ll talk about it tonight at my Birthday dinner,” Harry promises pressing a sweet kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. “You don’t have time right now.”

 

A quick look at the clock has Harry shuffling off the bed with one last squeeze to Isaac’s shoulders. “And neither do I anymore. If I don’t hurry, I’m going to be late.”

 

“Harry,” Isaac tries to call him back but Harry really doesn’t have the time to stop.

 

“Later, I promise,” Harry smiles earnestly at his boyfriend before disappearing into the closet to get his clothes. He hears Isaac sigh dramatically but he doesn’t push it so Harry assumes it’s nothing that can’t wait. He dresses quickly in a sharp suit, running his fingers through his hair in front of the mirror to make sure he looks presentable. His curls are getting a bit too long probably, he should schedule a haircut soon, he supposes. He kind of likes it though so he’s put it off even though Isaac seems to think it makes him look a little too feminine.

 

They pass each other a few times as they gather the things they need to go about their day and Harry notices with a fond feeling how well they work around each other. They’re like a well-oiled machine, everything about them running perfectly.

 

Isaac is about to walk out the door when Harry realizes that he hasn’t had his breakfast.

 

“Isaac, wait,” Harry calls before his boyfriend can disappear out the door. He rushes to the fridge and pulls out Isaac’s smoothie, passing it over with another swift kiss to the cheek. “Have a good day, babe.”

 

“Thanks,” Isaac says, eyes lingering on the smoothie in his hand. “You too.”

 

Harry is in too much of a rush to think about the fact that Isaac didn’t return his kiss.

 

*

 

Harry is an idiot.

 

“What?” He asks dumbly. They’re already seated at the restaurant. He and Isaac arrived early because Isaac had pestered Harry over the phone that they needed to talk about something and he didn’t want to do it in front of Harry’s family. He’d rushed over straight after work and now he really wishes he hadn’t.

 

“I’m sorry, Harry. I should have ended it sooner—”

 

“Ya think?” Harry asks incredulously. He’s stuck somewhere between shock, anger, and desperation. Didn’t he think just that morning that they were perfect together? God, he’s such an idiot. “Oh my god, I’m so glad that we were still using condoms.” Shit. There was probably a reason for that.

 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, Harry,” Isaac tells him with these sad, puppy eyes that used to weaken Harry’s knees a bit. And, dammit, they still do. He just… he doesn’t understand.

 

“Why did it?” He asks, voice mournful with the hurt he’s feeling.

 

Isaac sighs, rests his head in one hand for a second like Harry’s burdened him with the hardest question he could possibly ask. Good.

 

“Look, you’re gorgeous, alright? Any guy would be lucky to have you. I just don’t think that guy is me anymore.”

 

Harry narrows his eyes. The least the cheating bastard can do is give Harry a straight answer. “I didn’t ask for your platitudes, Isaac. I asked why I wasn’t good enough for you anymore.”

 

“I just, I think we got into a rut, Harry. It got old, boring. I mean, you schedule everything you do down to the fucking minute. You’re never just spontaneous. I guess… I guess I just needed a little adventure in my life,” Isaac says, putting his hand down on Harry’s on top of the table like he expects that to be some sort of comfort.

 

Harry pulls his hand back, his skin crawling a bit because he suddenly realizes that he doesn’t know where Isaac’s hands have been. Or, more accurately, he does now.

 

“I can be spontaneous,” Harry says sullenly. “I had a surprise blowjob planned this morning.”

 

Isaac scoffs at his words. “You can’t plan spontaneity, Harry. That’s the whole point.”

 

“I bet you wouldn’t have been complaining with my mouth on your dick,” Harry snaps. Seriously. This is the worst birthday ever.

 

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Isaac says, rising from his seat, preparing to leave. “It just wasn’t working anymore.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Harry yells at Isaac’s retreating back. “Was that someone else’s dick in my arse last night? It seemed like it was working then!”

 

The sound of a throat clearing behind him startles Harry and he turns to see his entire family standing there, his best mate Liam with them. He turns back around and bangs his head against the table.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

“I knew there was a reason I hated him,” Liam says into Harry’s curls.

 

“You hated him?!? Why did I not know this?” Harry leans back to ask, head still resting on Liam’s shoulder, both of them swaddled in blankets on Harry’s bed. He’d needed a cocoon of security so Liam didn’t protest, because Liam is a fucking awesome best mate.

 

Liam tightens his grip on Harry’s shoulders, squeezing lightly in an offer of comfort.  “You liked him. That was the important part. I wasn’t trying to date him so I figured I could put up with him for your benefit.”

 

Harry groans. “You need to tell me these things, Liam. You’re a much better judge of character than I am, obviously. What would you have done if I’d married him and you were stuck with him forever?”

 

Liam laughs, full-bodied and joyous, as though Harry’s just told him the greatest joke. “There’s no way you would have married that prat.”

 

Harry stiffens against Liam’s side, too quiet all of a sudden. Liam stops laughing, eyes widening at the bashful look on Harry’s face. “No. Harry, tell me you wouldn’t have married that prat.”

 

Harry’s eyes stay on his fingers as he twists them anxiously around each other over the blankets in his lap. “I was going to ask him tonight.”

 

“Oh my god,” Liam breathes, the events of the night suddenly taking on a whole new light. “Oh, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

 

Harry shrugs off the words. “I don’t need any more apologies, Liam. I’ve had enough tonight to last a lifetime.”

 

“I don’t know what he was thinking,” Liam says shaking his head. “You are a fucking catch, mate.”

 

“Hell yeah, I am,” Harry agrees, trying to help himself feel a little less pathetic. He pulls at all the anger he’d felt towards Isaac, drawing it closer to the surface. “You know, he had the nerve to tell me that I couldn’t be spontaneous? I can be spontaneous.”

 

“Yeah, you can,” Liam agrees and Harry lets himself believe that Liam means it.

 

“You know what? Let’s go somewhere. Right now,” Harry says quite spur of the moment. Take that fucking fuckface Isaac.

 

“Yeah, alright,” Liam agrees easily. “Where to, mate? Canada, France, Jamaica?”

 

Harry knows that Liam thinks he’s not serious, that this is just some idle daydreaming, because Liam would never suggest French-speaking countries if he were serious. Harry is fluent but Liam isn’t and he hates being left out of the conversation like that.

 

“I’m serious, Liam. I need to get out of here for a while, try and forget this whole disaster.”

 

Liam’s smile loses some of its silliness when he realizes that Harry means every word. “Ok. So where do you want to go?”

 

Harry thinks about it for a minute, really thinks, and then his face lights up with a smile when he makes his decision. Harry is going to go to the place that’s built on irresponsible, spur of the moment decisions. “Grab your passport, Liam. We’re going to Vegas.”

 

Liam raises a dubious eyebrow at him. “You sure about this?”

 

“Positive,” Harry answers, absolutely certain that Vegas is what he needs.

 

“Ok then, Vegas it is,” Liam says, squeezing Harry’s shoulders one last time before maneuvering his way out of every blanket that Harry owns to go pack. He turns back around when he gets to the door.  “Hey, Haz?”

 

“Yeah, Liam?” Harry answers from the pillows he’s snuggled into in Liam’s old space.

 

“Happy Birthday,” he says with a smile tinged with the smallest amount of sadness.

 

“Thanks,” Harry replies sincerely, sending Liam a grin as he walks out. If all goes well, maybe it will turn into a happy birthday. They’re going to Vegas. Harry’s smile grows at the thought. This is going to be awesome.

 

~*~

 

Louis is certain that this was the best idea either he or Niall has ever had when his feet touch land again in bright, sunny Nevada.  They take a taxi out of the airport and Louis’ excitement grows as they drive down the strip amongst the palm trees and the massive buildings that seem to stretch towards the sky. Everything seems lit up already even though it’s daytime and the sun outshines most of the large display screens passing by. Louis can’t wait to see what it’s going to look like tonight.

 

They have reservations at the MGM Grand in a suite for which Louis didn’t even check the price. The lobby is this expansive circular room with a marble floor that squeaks beneath his shoes. He and Niall smile when their key cards get placed in their hands and they go rushing off to the lifts.

 

Their suite is pretty standard as far as hotel rooms go, but there’s no mistaking that bit of Vegas charm present in the layout of the room and the flashy style of the furniture. He pulls back the curtain to reveal their view and turns to Niall with mischief already in his eyes just thinking about the wild stories they’re going to have to tell when this trip is all over. Niall leaves his side at the window to grab two airplane bottles of tequila and shoves one into Louis’ fist.

 

“Drinks already?” Louis laughs as he screws off the top. He’s only mildly concerned with getting started this early as Niall loudly toasts to Vegas and to Louis’ step-father for giving them a reason to come here in the first place. They drain their bottles with a single tilt of their heads. The alcohol burns as it travels down his throat, and Louis just knows this is going to be an adventure worth remembering.

 

He and Niall spend the majority of the afternoon exploring the rest of the hotel and the casino downstairs. They walk around a bit of the strip near the hotel, but they don’t go too far. They haven’t started partying yet, just getting a feel for the place really, but they’ve been day-drinking for hours so Louis feels giddy just from walking around in the hot sun and looking at everything.

 

It seems like it takes forever, but eventually the sun goes down and Louis can feel excitement humming just beneath his skin as the strip ignites into a rainbow of neon colors and light.

 

He and Niall rush back to their room to get ready for a night of debauchery and fun. Niall grabs another airplane bottle before collapsing onto the bed, so Louis takes it as an invitation to claim first shower rights. He retraces his steps back to the closet nearest the front door and shoves Niall’s bag out of the way to get to his own where they’re stacked up against the wall.

 

Louis walks back into the bedroom leaving a trail of clothes in his wake as he strips down to nothing but his underwear.

 

Niall whines into the pillow where he’s stretched out on the bed. “Ugh! I’m starving.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes at his friend as he turns the knob to the bathroom door. “Then order some food, you idiot.”

 

The words have barely left his mouth when a deep voice from inside the bathroom causes him to freeze. “What did you say, Li?”

 

Louis’ stomach jumps up to his throat when he looks around and spots a couple of travel bags over by the window that don’t belong to either him or Niall. Now that he’s paying attention, he also notices the smell of shower gel in the air and the tiny wisps of warm steam escaping from the crack under the door.

 

The hinges of the door creak as it’s pushed open and a tall man pokes his head out of it. He gasps when his eyes land on Louis and then on Niall whose eyes are wide and panicked as he scrambles off the bed. No one has a chance to say anything or react before the front door to the suite creaks open and another man suddenly freezes as soon as he steps foot into the bedroom and catches sight of them all.

 

“What the hell are they doing in our room?” he asks dropping a handful of brochures and pamphlets onto the bedside table. “And why are you naked?” he frowns, looking first at Louis and then at Louis’ clothes strewn across the floor.

 

“I’m not naked!” Louis spits. “And what do you mean your room? This is _our_ room.”

 

The tall, fresh-out-of-the-shower one laughs humorlessly at him. “I hate to tell you, but this is not your room. We were clearly here first. We got here about an hour ago, mate.”

 

Louis scoffs at him and the stupid towel wrapped elegantly around his head. “Don’t ‘mate’ me. Niall and I have been here since this afternoon. Didn’t you see our shit in the closet? This room is ours. Has been all day. I can show you our keycards if you don’t believe me.”

 

Shower-man scoffs right back at him and meets Louis’ eyes with enough intensity to rival his own. “Well, we obviously have keycards as well since Liam just walked through the door,” he reasons. “We have just as much right to be here as you.”

 

He swings the bathroom door open and steps into the room wearing nothing but another towel around his slim hips, and Louis realizes he’s attractive, obnoxiously so, but that doesn’t mean Louis is giving up this room that easily. His step-father unknowingly paid good money for this suite and Louis intends to make good use of it without shower-boy and his friend hanging around. Louis’ eyes travel down the length of the man’s tattooed body before meeting his eyes again. On second thought, shower-boy can stay for a while if he stays dressed like that, but Louis’ still not going to share this room.

 

“I’m going downstairs to sort this out,” Louis announces, realizing and accepting the fact that their room must have somehow been double booked.

 

He grabs his clothes from the floor and pulls them back on.  Niall is already walking towards the front door when the taller one from the shower stops them.

 

“Wait. Li and I are coming too. I want to make sure this gets fixed properly.”

 

Louis makes an offended face at the man’s tone which suggests that he won’t be able to handle the people at the front desk. Louis was born to sweet-talk people into giving him what he wants. He’s sure the people at the front desk will be no exception.

 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

Harry dresses quickly, his clothes sticking to him a little more than he’d like as he didn’t dry himself off very well. He’s more than a little concerned that the little one with the cheekbones is going to try to give him and Liam the slip. If anyone is equipped to deal with this problem, it’s Harry. He knows he’s the one that can sweet-talk them into a couple of fabulous new rooms.

 

He’s a bit surprised to find the other two men waiting quietly with Liam for him, he’d expected the little one to be complaining loudly at this point and maybe storming off but he isn’t. He just looks Harry over quickly, taking in his clothes and sighing. Harry wonders what that’s about. He doesn’t ask, instead he smiles politely and opens the door for everyone so that they know he’s ready and they can go get this situation taken care of.

 

“Mate, you do know that shirt has like four more buttons on it, right?”  The other fellow, apparently Irish, says as they walk to the lift and Harry realizes that he’s barely looked at this guy, too busy ogling the one with the attitude. He looks friendly but he’s not devastatingly attractive like his mate. Not to Harry anyway. His accent is nice though.

 

“Leave him alone,” Liam tells the bloke with stern expression, pressing the downward call button. Protective mode activated. “I think he looks nice.”

 

“Thank you, Liam,” Harry says with a smile at his friend before looking down at his bare chest shining out of his half-way buttoned top. “I’m comfortable this way.”

 

“Of course, you are,” mutters the tiny, hot one with a roll of his eyes. “Where do you hide your dick in those tight-ass jeans, anyway?”

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Harry answers haughtily, taking the lead as the lift chimes open and pressing the button for the lobby as everyone follows him in.

 

“I would,” the Irish one says blatantly.

 

Liam snorts causing the bloke to make a face at him.

 

“Not like that, you perv.”

 

“Oh, I’m the perv? Your friend was the one with his trousers off when we found you in our room,” Liam retorts.

 

“Louis was perfectly justified in taking his jeans off in _our_ room,” Irish argues just as the lift doors chime open again into the lobby.

 

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to live in a world where a man can’t walk around with no trousers in the privacy of his own room,” Louis says as they step out.

 

“It wasn’t your room,” Liam grumbles, glaring over his shoulder at the Irish one.

 

“Liam,” Harry says gently as they all come to a stop a short distance from the front desk, “It’s fine. Besides, I can’t argue with the no trousers thing.”

 

“Look at that, Niall,” Louis grins, eyes trailing over Harry’s figure again like he’s suddenly seeing him in a different light. “A man after me own heart.”

 

Niall rolls his eyes and shakes his head like he doesn’t approve. Harry takes offense to that. He’s a catch, thank you very much.

 

“Can you two stop flirting so that we can deal with the room situation, please,” Liam asks dryly and Niall actually nods in agreement.

 

“Sure, I’ll just—”

 

“Actually, I can handle this,” Harry cuts Louis off, striding up to the front desk, putting the utmost confidence into each step. He leans over the counter, aiming his most charming smile at the concierge. “Hi.”

 

“Hello, what can I do for you, sir?” The concierge smiles back politely.

 

“Well,… Thomas,” Harry says reading the fellow’s name tag, “I’m so sorry to bother you and I really hate to cause you problems but my friend and I have a bit of a room situation. You see, Liam and I have apparently accidentally been booked into the same room that those other two lovely gentleman were also booked into.”

 

“Oh no, I’m terribly sorry, sir,” the concierge scrambles to apologize even as he begins tapping away at the computer next to him. “Our system went down earlier today, so I imagine that is what’s caused the mix-up. Let me just see what I can do for you. What’s your name?”

 

“Harry Styles. Thank you so much,” Harry tells the man sweetly, looking over his shoulder to wink at the others. He sees them all relax a bit at the knowledge that the situation’s being taken care of before he turns his attention back to the man behind the counter.

 

“Here you are, sir,” the concierge says slipping Harry two envelopes with new room keys. “Two penthouse suites at no extra charge, compliments of the hotel. Again, I’m so sorry for the mix up, sir.”

 

“Thank you, Thomas,” Harry says again. “You’re lovely. I hope you have a wonderful night.”

 

He walks up to the others with a smug smile on his face. “I got us penthouse suites.”

 

Louis takes the envelope containing his and Niall’s keys, looking inside before smirking at Harry. “You’re just a whole new level of charmer, aren’t ya, Curly?”

 

“I do alright,” Harry answers with a shrug but he can’t stop himself from preening a bit at the comment.

 

Louis laughs, rolling his shoulders and brushing his soft fringe to the side. “Now, let’s see what the Tommo can do.”

 

Harry watches in confusion as Louis walks up to the desk. “I thought his name was Louis?”

 

“His surname is Tomlinson,” Niall explains, watching Louis intently. “Tommo for short.”

 

Liam snorts again, it’s a thing he does lately, apparently. “Does he always refer to himself in the third person?”

 

Niall shrugs, “He may be a bit arrogant but at least he’s not a whiny baby with a stick up his arse.”

 

“That’s my friend you’re insulting,” Harry sticks up for Liam with a frown before Liam can say anything for himself.

 

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” Niall states unbothered by Harry’s indignation. His eyes never leave Louis and a happy smile splits his face when Louis turns around and walks back to them, fanning himself with a multitude of VIP passes to all of the best spots on the strip.

 

~*~

 

They head back to their shared room to get everything out once everything has been taken care of. The four of them brush elbows a couple of times during the process, but it’s not like Louis particularly minds it coming from the tall one.

 

The boy threw on some random outfit after his shower that had initially seemed like a poor fashion choice, but the more Louis looks the more his choice of outfit rubs off on him, and Louis just so happens to want to rub his hands all over him. His long legs in those jeans are fucking sinful and the shirt he’s wearing leaves more skin exposed than covered. The whole point of Vegas is to have a good time, and Harry, he looks like a fucking brilliant one.

 

The four of them share a lift up to the top floor and Louis’ roaming eyes still refuse to behave. Harry catches him staring when he readjusts his bag on his shoulder. Louis doesn’t make much of an effort to look bashful or ashamed, but neither does Harry when he gives Louis the tiniest quirk of a grin. Interesting.

 

A long corridor leads them to their suites, which are right next to each other. They all pause for a quick farewell.

 

“It was nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night,” Harry says with a courteous nod.

 

“We will,” Louis answers for both him and Niall. “You two do the same. Have fun.”

 

Harry holds his gaze as Liam successfully unlocks their suite and steps inside. Liam gives Harry an impatient look as he holds open the door for him to walk through. Harry gives him and Niall a little wave goodbye and then he’s walking to catch up with Liam. It’s then that Louis realizes he doesn’t want the boy to leave just yet. “So, what are you two lads planning on getting into tonight?” he asks.

 

Harry and Liam give each other puzzled looks at his random question. “Uh…we’re not sure yet. We’ll figure it out though. We’ll look up some things to do and go from there.”

 

Louis gives them both a once over, noting how sensible and balanced they seem standing in the door of their suite. He and Niall rarely have a plan for anything and tonight is no exception. Their only goal is to have fun. He and Niall are like-minded that way; it seems Liam and Harry are like-minded as well, but only in the spirit of being complete and utter bores.

 

“Well, since you have nothing planned you should come out with me and Niall. We can get into all kinds of trouble together.” Louis takes the VIP passes he scored from the concierge and swishes them through the air in front of his face. “It’s a guaranteed good time, Curly.”

 

Liam scoffs from where he’s still waiting for Harry. “We don’t need your help to have a good time. Like Harry said, we’ll figure it out. Come on, Haz. We still need to get dressed,” he tells his friend, but Harry isn’t turning to follow him. His eyes move from the various passes to Louis like he’s actually considering his proposal.

 

“What do you say, Harry? You know you want to,” he grins.

 

Liam calls his name again, but Harry doesn’t seem to notice. He’s still staring at Louis in deep contemplation.

 

“Harry. We are not spending our night with these two!” he mutters under his breath.

 

“Oi!” Niall frowns from where he’s standing. “I’m getting sick of you talking shit about us like we’re not standing right here!”

 

Liam ignores him, grabbing his friend’s arm to gain his attention. “Harry, remember why we’re here,” he says, meeting his eyes with a significant look that holds no meaning for Louis.

 

Harry sobers like he’s waking from a dream and then he’s nodding and turning to follow Liam inside.

 

“Why are you listening to him?” Louis demands. “You’re in Vegas. What’s the point of being here if you’re just going to schedule everything down to the minute?”

 

Louis didn’t think his words were all that harsh, but Harry stiffens like he has been slapped, his jaw tense as he pulls out of Liam’s grasp.

 

“I do not schedule things down to the minute,” he grits out, obviously defensive about it. Good, Louis thinks. If he’s sensitive about being boring, then it’ll be easier for Louis to use it to his advantage.

 

“Oh come on, Harry. I haven’t even known you that long and I can tell you’re a complete Type A.”

 

His nostrils flare as he stares Louis down. “So? There’s nothing wrong with liking structure.”

 

“There’s also nothing wrong with letting go once in a while.”

 

They stand in silence for a few beats while Harry mulls it over, his thoughts clear on his face.

 

“Come out with us,” Louis taunts one more time with a smirk. It turns out to be just the push that Harry needs.

 

“Okay. We’d love to.”

 

Liam lets out an indignant squawk at his side. “No we wouldn’t! Harry we-”

 

“Liam, the man has spoken!” Louis cuts in before he can talk Harry out of it. “What do you say we all meet down in the lobby in about an hour?”

 

Harry meets his eyes with determination when he gives him a quick nod.

 

“That sounds perfect.”

 

“Great! We’ll see you in a bit then!”

 

Louis pushes an unhappy looking Niall through the door of their suite once he gets it open. Niall’s expression is grumpy like a kitten forced to wear a collar it hates.

 

“I get that you’re into the one with all the hair and I’m trying to be a supportive wing man, really I am, but Lou. Look at the miserable bastard I’m going to be stuck with all night! He hates everything!”

 

Louis can’t really sympathize at the moment when his mind is still on the gentle curve of Harry’s arse and the pair of dimples that frame his full lips. If all goes well he might get to taste those lips and feel that arse, so Niall will just have to deal.

 

“Oh, he’s not so bad. He’s kind of hot in a fun-sucking-accountant kind of way,” he tries. All Louis gets in return is a sharp glare.

 

~*~

 

Harry can still hear Liam grumbling as they enter the lobby to meet up with Louis and Niall. He’d react to it, turn to Liam and tell him how he’s sure Niall isn’t so bad when you get to know him, but he knows that would just start Liam on yet another tangent. He’s never seen Liam so bothered by someone before. Liam’s simply ignored people who have done worse than anything Niall has done. It doesn’t really make sense.

 

And then there’s Louis. He’s hot but he’s not the kind of guy that Harry typically goes for. Maybe that’s a good thing. Despite trying to be optimistic, Harry’s certain before the night even starts that it’s is going to end in disaster but he’s driven on by Louis’ earlier words, an echo of Isaac’s own hurtful words. Harry may like things the way he likes them but he is not fucking boring.

 

Liam nearly stumbles into Harry’s back when Harry spots Louis and Niall. Louis looks amazing and for a second Harry might have forgotten how to breathe.  His fringe is loose across his forehead and he reaches up to smooth a hand over it, fixing some flaw that Harry doesn’t see as he talks to Niall with a delighted smile on his face.

 

God, Harry hopes this isn’t a horrible idea. Harry’s never really been the rebound type, doesn’t really believe in one night stands. There are two problems with this. One, he doesn’t really get the vibe that Louis is the relationship type, let alone that he’d get himself caught in one with Harry.  And two, Harry wants to climb him and get entangled in those limbs like a really tiny, sexy-as-fuck tree.  Maybe it’s just because he’s been dumped and he needs someone to show him that he’s still capable of making someone want him. Maybe he’s not used to being lonely when it comes to romance. Either way, He wants in a way he knows he shouldn’t.

 

“Liam,” Harry cuts off whatever complaint the other boy was making, turning and grabbing him firmly by the shoulders. “Promise me, right here and now, that you won’t let me do anything stupid tonight.”

 

“I thought that was the point?” Liam says a bit confused before descending into sarcasm. “So, what? Are we flying back home? Because, in case you missed it, we’re in Vegas, Harry. The only way to ensure you don’t do something stupid is to leave. Also, do you remember agreeing to go out with Horny and Tetchy over there? Bit late to stop the stupidity there.”

 

Harry follows Liam’s gaze and sees Niall impatiently checking Louis’ watch with a scowl on his face as Louis shamelessly checks out the arse of an attractive man walking by. With a woman that is very obviously his wife. Dread settles deep in Harry’s gut. “Oh god, you’re right. Liam, what was I thinking?”

 

“Do you want to sneak out the bac—”

 

“There you are,” Louis’ cheery voice breaks in before Harry can agree to Liam’s suggestion to sneak away. It’s probably for the best, Harry would have felt really guilty all night if he’d gone through with it.

 

Louis eyes him with what Harry can only describe as appreciation, stare lingering on his half-buttoned, sheer shirt as he and Niall amble over to meet them. “You look good when you start to let your hair down, Curly.”

 

“My hair’s been down,” Harry replies, deliberately being obtuse. He doesn’t think he likes the implications of Louis’ comment so he chooses to blatantly ignore them.

 

Louis chuckles like Harry’s just made a joke and puts a hand on the small Harry’s back, moving to lead them out of the hotel. The hand on his back feels possessive, like Louis is laying a claim, and Harry’s not sure how he feels about that just yet. He thinks he might like it. “You took so long getting down here, we were afraid you’d changed your mind.”

 

“Wish you had,” Niall mumbles as he and Liam fall into step behind the other two.

 

Harry turns to check on Liam, knowing the comment will make him bristle.

 

“The feeling’s completely mutual,” Liam retorts through clenched teeth, glaring straight ahead.

 

*

 

Harry lets Louis buy him several shots at the first club they come to. It’s glitzy but more gaudy than glamourous.

 

“What are we drinking to?” Louis asks raising his first shot glass.

 

Harry looks at Liam over Louis’ shoulder, sitting at another table and enduring a night with a guy he seems to hate so that Harry can have this because Liam is an amazing friend.

 

“To good friends,” Harry announces ready to throw back his drink but Louis catches his hand before he can.

 

“Now, now, Curly,” Louis admonishes. “We can drink to our sexually frustrated best mates later. What are we really toasting to? What brings you to Vegas?”

 

“Oh, well in that case. To getting dumped!” Harry gets his drink to his lips this time, a quick glimpse of Louis’ approving smirk accompanying the slow burn down his throat as he swallows.

 

Louis raises his glass a little higher to make his own toast. “To getting fired!”

 

Harry is quick to follow Louis toast with an embellishment on his own. “To getting dumped on my birthday!”

 

“Ooh, ouch!” Louis winces in sympathy before picking up his second glass. “To getting fired by my step-father!”

 

“Yikes. That hurts,” Harry commiserates reaching for another glass. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he thinks he needs to say the next part, get it out into the universe one last time before he can truly let go of the fact that it didn’t work out the way he’d imagined. That maybe it wasn’t supposed to. He can’t bring himself to proclaim it quite as brazenly as the rest though so he finds himself softly muttering it. “I was going to propose.”

 

Louis’ eyes get impossibly big at Harry’s quiet declaration. “Shit. Yeah, ok. You win.”

 

Harry drinks his shot and ignores the fact that he didn’t realize they were competing. Louis buys him more drinks, this time colorful and fruity, so Harry will take the unintentional win.

 

*

 

Harry feels light and bubbly for the first time in, well, ages really. He hadn’t realized just how much being with Isaac had felt like work. Right now, on just the right side of tipsy, Harry’s realizing that they’d been struggling for a while. He was just too busy trying to keep Isaac interested to realize that he felt like he had to try to keep Isaac interested. He was probably never even really himself around Isaac. Maybe that’s why they fell apart.

 

“Hey, Louis?” Harry asks from where he’s leaning on Louis’ shoulder.

 

“Hmm?” Louis hums, turning to Harry with a drunken grin on his face. “What it is, Harry, my love?”

 

“Do you think you can be happy with someone if they never really know you?”

 

Louis’ eyes get a steely glint after Harry’s question. “Are we talking about your shithead ex, again?”

 

Harry nods, never taking his head from Louis’ shoulder. “I don’t know if he even knew the real me or if I was just showing him what I thought he wanted.”

 

“You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s a fucking loser, Harry. One that wouldn’t know a good thing if it sat on his face,” Louis promises, ruffling Harry’s hair.

 

“I did that once,” Harry states, frowning. “Only once. He was horrible at eating arse.”

 

Louis’ shoulders start shaking, disturbing Harry’s peaceful resting place and Harry looks up to see Louis giggling into his drink.

 

“What?” Harry asks, a smile already starting on his lips as he anticipates Louis’ answer.

 

“You’re precious, Curly,” Louis answers fondly though his laughter.

 

It’s probably meant to be at least a little patronizing but Harry quite likes the thought of someone finding him precious. And he really doesn’t mind if that person is Louis. Despite Harry’s original impression that Louis would run off with the first hot guy to beckon him over, Louis has been a comforting presence by Harry’s side all night.

 

“I don’t see how your own step-father could fire you, Lou. You’re pretty wonderful in my book,” Harry says in thanks as he snuggles closer, reclaiming his spot on Louis’ shoulder now that the shaking has stopped.

 

“Maybe I should have plied him with alcohol, too,” Louis replies with a wry grin. “Could have stopped him from firing me if I conned him into thinking I was something special.”

 

“Heeey. You’re not fooling anyone, Tomlinson,” Harry argues, sitting up for once. He should be using proper posture while he defends Louis from the darker half of himself. “I know you cared about that job and what your step-father thinks of you. And you may not let yourself believe it but you are something special. You’re the type of person that will spend the night comforting a complete stranger. You’re not conning anyone, Louis. Even if you don’t believe it, that doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve good things.”

 

“I have to admit,” Louis confesses with a sly grin that does nothing to hide the faint blush Harry can see on his cheeks. “I did have an ulterior motive when I started the night comforting a complete stranger.”

 

Harry is the one who laughs this time, loud and full-bodied. “You think I don’t know that? I saw the way you were looking at me, Lou. It’s just too bad we got to know each other, I’d hate to ruin what we have by having sex with you.”

 

“Yeah,” Louis agrees. “Sex ruins everything.”

 

“Better to just be friends,” Harry adds as two more drinks that Louis apparently ordered when he wasn’t looking are placed in front of them.

 

Harry thinks he vaguely remembers seeing Niall and Liam furiously making out by the bathrooms at some point. After that, the night is just one big blur.

 

~*~

 

Louis is certain that Harry Styles is the most infuriatingly hot person that he has ever known. Not that they’ve known each other for very long or anything, but for the few hours that they’ve been glued to one another Louis has fallen hard.

 

He knows it’s pure coincidence that they’ve both ended up here with their best mates, but it feels almost like this was all planned. Like they’re meant to be or something. There’s proof in the way they both love a good rum and coke and also in their shared appreciation for good music and football. Louis realizes that Niall also enjoys all of those things, but it’s just different with Harry. Qualities like good taste are hard to come by in a cute boy these days. He’s quickly realizing that Harry’s ex-boyfriend was a fucking idiot for thinking he could do better.

 

Louis can’t even really explain what it is about Harry that makes his stomach feel all squiggly inside. It’s just that he’s got these eyes that make you feel warm like standing under a spotlight. He’s just so lovely and not at all the uptight stick in the mud that Louis misjudged him to be, and although he had been  spouting off that let’s be friends slash celibate bullshit at the beginning of their night, Louis can tell that something has definitely shifted between them.

 

“What happened to our friends?” Louis wonders aloud to the boy pressed up against him with his head resting in the crook of Louis’ shoulder. Louis is proud of himself for being able to support their combined weight as they sway back and forth on the dance floor of whatever casino they’ve wound up in.

 

Louis isn’t one hundred percent sure of exactly how they got here or whether or not the open space near the blackjack table actually counts as a dance floor, but there’s music playing somewhere overhead and no one has kicked them out yet, so.

 

“Who cares about them?” Harry mumbles as they turn a slow circle. They’re not even technically dancing at this point. They never were to be fair, but at least earlier there had been some kind of rhythmic bopping around. Now they’re just leaning against one another. He feels Harry’s grin when he moves so that his lips are pressed right against Louis’ neck. “Our friends are probably getting each other off in the toilets,” he sighs. “It’s incredibly rude of them, I think.”

 

No. What’s rude is the way his breaths are falling against Louis’ skin. And now that he’s noticed, Louis also takes offense to how good Harry smells all of the time as well as the way his muscular thigh is pressed right against his dick where their legs are drunkenly slotted together.

 

“Someone’s jealous,” Louis sings out. His song gets cut short when a waitress with a platter of shots walks by and Harry nearly topples them over trying to reach for a glass.

 

He successfully grabs a green-colored one and shoots it back, this time only grimacing slightly at the taste before handing a purple one off to Louis. Louis is so far gone by now that it doesn’t even burn on the way down his throat.

 

“No one gets jealous over one-night stands,” Harry giggles. “They’re always horrible and they never mean anything.”

 

Louis is pretty sure they’re soulmates or whatever, but he can’t exactly agree with Harry on this one, because right now his best mate is having a hell of a time living out the night that Louis thought he was going to have. He’s pretty sure Niall is happy wherever he is whether the sex is meaningful or not.

 

Louis’ night has turned out to be pretty amazing as well, it’s just a lot different from what he’s used to.

 

Harry nuzzles his face into his neck again when Louis takes too long to answer. “Wouldn’t you want it to mean something, Lou? Isn’t it always so much better when there’s a connection? When two people just click?” he asks dreamily, teasingly running his fingers along his skin.

 

Louis can only imagine, and right now his mind is flashing a million images per second of him and Harry doing a lot more than fucking clicking. He’s never been one to shy away from a one-night stand, but maybe he’s been going about it all wrong this whole time. He thinks he could maybe get behind this whole connection thing if Harry’s going to be involved.

 

“Didn’t you and your boyfriend have all of that with each other?” Louis smirks.

 

Harry loudly gags in his ear before correcting him. “You mean my ex-boyfriend? I always thought we had something special,” he laments, “But now I’m not so sure...” he whispers. Louis freezes when Harry unexpectedly drags his lips from the base of his neck up to the shell of his ear in an excruciatingly slow move. He can’t tell if the gesture was an accident or not. Louis really hopes it wasn’t.

 

“And uh, w-what made you change your mind?” he manages to stutter out.

 

Louis’ eyes flutter shut and he swears his heart is going to beat right out of his chest when Harry noses against his jawline. He kisses Louis’ cheek dangerously close to his mouth, and when he smirks Louis wants to cry, because for a few seconds he completely forgot that Harry has fucking dimples.

 

He pulls back with those green eyes of his burning bright as ever when he answers, “You, of course.”

 

His smile is wicked as Louis attempts to get a handle on himself.  He has no idea why Harry has this much power over him, especially since they haven’t even had sex or properly kissed. It’s like Harry knows exactly what to do and say like some kind of sexy psychic or wizard or something.

 

“What?” Harry giggles when Louis laughs to himself.

 

“You’re like Harry Potter, but with sexy, curly hair…but without the pet owl though.”

 

“I don’t wear glasses either,” Harry adds over the sound of someone winning at one of the blackjack tables, “But luckily, I have quite the wand to make up for it,” he says darkly.

 

Louis was sure the boy couldn’t be any more perfect and once again he’s proven wrong. Louis fucking loves penis jokes.

 

Harry turns to watch the blackjack winner celebrate with a group of her friends and his expression turns wishful.

 

“Let’s play, Lou. We could become millionaires!”

 

Louis seriously doubts it.

 

“Probably not, Haz. I’ve never won anything in my entire life.”

 

Harry pulls him into a tight hug to lift his spirits.

 

“But you’ll have me this time, though. You can be my Ron and we’ll be each other’s good luck charm!”

 

Louis frowns at him. He’s not sure he and Harry have been reading and watching the same series.

 

“What are you talking about, Curly? Ron fucks shit up. I need to be Hermione so I can be super smart and count cards. That’s how we’ll win.”

 

“No,” Harry maintains, “I don’t want you to be her. She was brilliant for sure, but Harry and Ron, they were great together. They had something special just like us.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes. “They end up with Ginny and Hermione in the end, you know.”

 

Harry shrugs and presses another kiss to Louis’ cheek like the real ending to Harry Potter is irrelevant. “Well, they shouldn’t have,” he whispers. This time the corners of their lips touch for a few moments. Louis is pretty sure it was deliberate.

 

Louis meets his gaze and realizes they’re having a conversation that would probably make very little sense to anyone else except the two of them in this moment. Louis smiles because they don’t need to clarify what the hell they’re talking about for them to just know, for them to just get it.

 

*

 

They stumble out onto the strip after Liam and Niall get them thrown out. Apparently Caesar’s Palace doesn’t take too well to public bathroom sex, so the four of them hit the streets to find somewhere else to spend their money.

 

Being asked to leave didn’t upset Harry the way Louis would have guessed. He laughed as their party was escorted out into the desert heat and Louis turned to laugh with him, but as soon as they were face to face Harry did the unthinkable and pulled him in for a kiss so long overdue that Louis’ lips ache from the amount of energy they put into it when they crashed together.

 

Now that they’ve started, Louis is finding it difficult to not be kissing Harry or touching him in some way even as they’re following Liam and Niall down the sidewalk. They stop off for Harry to press him against a palm tree and pant down his throat, his tall frame crowding Louis in and making him feel breathless on the strip as cars and people drive by. Their friends are yelling for them to hurry up somewhere in the distance and there’s an Elvis in a red tracksuit posing for pictures a few yards away, but Louis doesn’t give a shit about any of it so long as Harry’s hands and lips are on him.

 

Niall forcibly wrenches them apart when he and Liam get fed up of waiting around, causing both of them to whine and complain from having to leave each other’s arms. Harry whispers that they’ll continue where they left off once they find a new casino. Louis’ stomach flutters at the promise, but then his attention gets pulled by a large flashing sign across the street that’s visible just over Harry’s head.

 

It’s a wedding chapel, and the more Louis looks at it the more he realizes that it’s a sign. Like, a metaphorical one as well as a literal one.

 

It’s just that Louis has been lost for years, wasting his time with men and week-long relationships that never even came close to what he and Harry have. Why else would his step-father fire him out of the blue and Harry’s stupid ex dump him on the day that Harry should’ve proposed? It’s all connected and has led the two of them right here to Cupid’s Wedding Chapel.

 

“Haz, look,” he points as Harry tries to pull him along by his arm to go meet up with Liam and Niall. Harry squints at the sign and giggles at the newlywed couple stumbling out of the double doors. The bride is wearing a flashing veil.

 

“That’s so sweet,” he says as he drops a kiss to Louis’ forehead. “Let’s go before our friends leave us.”

 

Louis shakes his head, trying to stop Harry from following them. “No, Haz. Look. Look where we are. Look at the sign,” he pleads. Harry pauses for a moment to consider their surroundings and squint at the shady little chapel across from them. He frowns like he doesn’t get it.

 

Louis knows this is love because he wants to kiss Harry even when he’s clueless as fuck.

 

He holds Harry’s hands in his and takes a deep breath. Harry was going to propose to his wanker of a boyfriend couple of days ago, but that arsehole ruined it for himself. Louis wants to get this right.

 

“You told me earlier that you wanted to get married one day. You wanted to ask your ex until you realized he wasn’t right for you, but I don’t want you with anybody else, Haz. I want you to marry me.”

 

Harry blinks down at him with pink cheeks. His voice is soft when he squeezes Louis’ hands.

 

“Oh my god, Lou, are you- are you proposing to me?”

 

“I am,” he quickly nods, sensing a yes just on the horizon. “…What do you think?” Louis bites at his lip, anxiously bouncing on his toes as he waits for an answer.

 

Harry glances back at the chapel and then locks eyes with Louis again. He’s quiet for a few seconds and then he’s saying the words Louis wants so badly to hear. “I don’t have to think, Lou. I just know,” he smiles.

 

“Yeah?” Louis checks. “You’re sure about this? Because I am. I’m so sure about you.”

 

“I told you we have something special,” Harry reminds him. “Who would give something like that up?”

 

They collapse into each other when things fall into place, their mouths crashing together once again as they celebrate their engagement.

 

“Hey, Li!” Harry calls when they break apart from each other. Liam turns to him from where he and Niall are now pressed up against their own palm tree. Louis notes that they aren’t nearly as cute as him and Harry.

 

“Louis and I are going across the street to get married! Come be my best man!”

 

Louis rolls his eyes, expecting boring, sensible Liam to talk his friend out of spending the rest of his life with him. He gasps when Liam simply shrugs and says okay. Niall pipes up soon after that.

 

“What the hell, Tommo! You didn’t tell me you and Harry were settling down!”

 

To be fair, Louis didn’t know that he was either, but when the cosmos designs a plan for you to meet your soulmate, you just go with it. “I’m telling you now!” Louis shouts. “Shut up and come be my best man!”

 

Niall instantly agrees, and Louis almost tears up because he can’t believe how fucking magical this place is. He has a fiancé and in a few minutes he’s going to be a husband. He honestly can’t believe his luck.

 

~*~

 

Harry doesn’t want to wake up. He can feel it, reality, pulling at the edges of his sleep and he tries to hold tighter to the divine darkness that he’s currently shrouded in. He feels good floating in half-remembered dreams and the shadow of slumber. A hint of a headache creeps up on him and tells him that he’s fighting a losing battle. He holds tighter to his pillow and tries to will away morning because he knows what’s coming isn’t going to be pleasant.

 

“Ugh,” a voice laments beside him and the arm around Harry’s waist tightens its grip on him as the owner of said arm snuggles closer. “Fuck. I don’t want to wake up yet.”

 

Harry’s eyes shoot open. He’s not facing his bed partner but Harry spent a good portion of last night getting to know the owner of that voice. He squeezes his eyes shut once more and prays for time to reverse itself because nothing good can come of this. When he opens them again he sees the same heavy drapes covering the wall of windows that harbor a spectacular view of Vegas, he’s still wrapped in the same sheets, and Louis’ arm is still securely holding onto his waist. So, time travel is apparently out of the question.

 

Louis throws his leg over both of Harry’s and Harry can feel the naked flesh of Louis’ hips pressed against his bum. God, he really slept with Louis.

 

Now that his eyes are open and his brain is working overtime to figure out how the hell he ended up here, Harry’s headache goes from a trickle to a roar, momentarily sidelining his panic. He groans louder than he meant to and that startles Louis into awareness.

 

Harry can tell the second Louis realizes what’s happened because the arm around his waist disappears rather suddenly.

 

Harry doesn’t know whether to be amused or offended when Louis nearly falls out of the bed, flailing to get away. His headache chooses for him.

 

“Heeey,” he drawls, eyes narrowing on the naked form of his bedmate as he struggles to keep from falling. “Don’t act like you weren’t eyeing me up last night.”

 

“What the hell happened to ‘I’d hate for sex to ruin our friendship’, huh Curly?” Louis retorts.

 

“Oh, so this is my fault? I mean, I don’t even remember a lot of last night but this is obviously your fault,” Harry argues, sitting up to hold his aching head in his hands and try to massage away some of the pain. He feels a little like he ate a five course meal and then took a few hundred spins on a tilt-a-whirl. He’s a little dizzy and a lot queasy.

 

“Well, excuse me for having the best arse you’ve ever seen, Harry, but your inability to resist me is hardly my doing.” Louis is looking at the floor around the bed, probably searching for his clothing. Harry isn’t going to tell him that his stuff is on the floor next to Harry’s side.

 

“Shut up, Louis,” Harry growls, throwing the covers off, “I have enough of a headache as it is.”

 

“Holy shit,” Louis whispers, awe in his tone and Harry looks up to see what his problem is only to follow Louis’ gaze back down to his dick. It’s soft but it’s obviously larger than average.

 

Harry smirks through the pain in his head, looking back up to address Louis. “Are you sure I was the one who couldn’t resist?”

 

Louis rolls his eyes and goes back to his search without comment.

 

Harry sighs and finally makes himself get out of bed, walking toward the bathroom as he speaks. “I’m going to take a shower.”

 

“Don’t hog the hot water. I want one next,” Louis replies, picking up Harry’s jeans and looking at them thoughtfully as though he’s considering stealing them since he can’t find his own.

 

“Check the other side of the bed,” Harry tells him because as much fun as it is to watch Louis look in all the wrong places, Harry is not in the mood to lose his favorite pair of jeans.

 

Louis peers around the bed and sees his wrinkled pile of clothing. He hastily drops Harry’s jeans and moves towards his own. “Thanks, mate.”

 

Harry waves off the thanks and disappears into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. His reflection in the mirror taunts him. He’s covered in love bites and he looks a bit like he slept in a torture chamber. His hair is everywhere and his lips are puffy, like he did more kissing than sleeping last night.

 

Harry turns on the tap and moves to fill his hands when he catches sight of the ring on his left hand. The things is, Harry wears rings all the time but this one isn’t one of his. Also, it’s on his ring finger. The one reserved for a wedding ring.

 

Harry looks up at his reflection again, eyes wide as the lovebites on his body take on a whole new meaning. “Oh, fuck.”

 

Seconds later, there’s a thump from the bedroom and Louis’ voice, high and panicked calls out, “Harry!”

 

Harry swallows roughly and slowly opens the bathroom door. Louis looks up from his own left hand.

 

“Please tell me this is some kind of a joke,” Louis implores, from where he’s sprawled on the floor.

 

Harry shakes his head. “If it is, it’s being played on me too,” he says, raising his own hand for Louis to see.

 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Louis mutters as he pulls himself up from the floor. When he sits down on the bed, he pulls the duvet over his lap, like Harry hasn’t already seen what he has to offer in the dick department. Harry is intimately acquainted with Louis’ dick by now. Not that he remembers it. “Niall!”

 

Louis’ sudden shout startles Harry but his, oh god, his husband is grinning like he’s just figured out the funniest punchline.

 

“This has Niall written all over it, the little shit,” Louis laughs, shaking his head and looking an awful lot like he’s proud of his best mate’s punking prowess. “Just wait, Curly. I’ll get him back good for this one.”

 

“Lou, I don’t think…” Harry has his doubts about all this but Louis is already cutting him off.

 

“Oh my god, I’ve just had the best idea. Let’s play it up! Act like we’re totally into each other when we see him,” Louis says, grinning from ear to ear.

 

“Are you really that sure this is a joke?” Harry asks, walking over to sit next to Louis, not bothering to cover his naughty bits. He wants to believe that this is all some elaborate prank but at the same time, it feels wrong somehow.

 

“Of course I am, Haz,” Louis says but Harry doesn’t miss the way Louis’ hand twitches as he reaches up to run his fingers through his own hair. “Hate to disappoint, but I’m not the marrying type, babe.”

 

Harry snorts because really who could have guessed?

 

“Oi,” Louis protests, knocking his shoulder into Harry’s as Harry laughs.

 

“Whatever you say, Lou.” Harry doesn’t feel like arguing. “I’m going to take that shower now.”

 

“I think I’ll meet up with Niall and go down for breakfast,” Louis replies, pulling on last night’s clothes because he’s apparently in the room that was supposed to be Harry and Liam’s.

 

“I’ll grab Liam when I’m done and meet you down there.” Harry hears Louis’ hum of affirmation just before he closes the bathroom door behind him once more.

 

Harry spends a long time in his shower staring at the ring on his finger. It’s cheesy, not even real gold, and it looks exactly as cheap as it is sat alongside his other rings. Still, for some reason he doesn’t take it off.

 

~*~

 

Louis digs in his pocket until he finds the keycard to his and Niall’s room. There’s no one in there, but the bed looks like it’s been slept in, so he knows he must have come back last night at some point. Louis reaches for his phone, finding the battery mostly drained, but he uses what’s left of it to text his friend.

 

‘Where are you?’

 

He gets a pretty quick reply of, ‘Dying downstairs.’

 

Louis’ hangover makes him feel like the living dead as well, so he heads in Niall’s direction to go die with him.

 

He goes into the little restaurant in the corner of the lobby and immediately sees Niall and Liam silently glaring at each other from across their table. Apparently their mutual attraction from last night didn’t leak into the soberness of the morning after.

 

Louis smirks at his friend as he approaches and slinks down into the seat beside him. “This looks cozy,” he says, looking between the two of them. “How are you, lads? Ooh! Is that coffee? Here, let me have some.”

 

Niall slaps his hand away. “And why exactly are you so happy? You’re the one with the fucking husband,” he says so convincingly that Louis could almost believe that he’s serious. He had no idea that Niall was such a brilliant actor.

 

“Oh, yes. Me and the hubby. How could I forget my spouse of all people.” He laughs despite his headache, but his smile fades around the edges when he catches Liam’s appalled expression. “Jesus, Liam. Calm down. I’m only kidding.”

 

Apparently Liam is too miserable to take a fucking joke today. Louis forgot how uptight he and Harry are when there’s no alcohol involved.

 

Liam closes his eyes and covers his face with his hands. “He doesn’t know,” he helplessly mummers to Niall. “Have you talked to Harry?” he suddenly asks Louis.

 

“Uh, yeah?” Louis raises an eyebrow at him. “When I left he was in the shower. He’ll probably find his way down here in a bit.” Niall and Liam give each other a look that Louis doesn’t understand the significance of, and suddenly the joke isn’t as funny anymore. “Okay, look, me and Harry were going to fuck with you and go along with your whole Vegas marriage prank, but you two are acting so weird that I’m calling it off.”

 

“It’s not a prank! This isn’t a joke, Louis. You two are actually fucking married!” Liam shouts a lot louder than he really needs to. The volume of it ricochets off of the corners of Louis’ skull. He’s still wincing from the pain when Liam’s eyes light up. “Your phone!” he snaps his fingers at Niall. “Show him the video.”

 

Niall sighs as he produces the device and unlocks it. He swipes across the screen a couple of times and then slides the phone over to Louis with a look of trepidation. He gives Louis’ shoulder a tight squeeze before he hits play.

 

Louis squints at the shaky image of some small room decorated in shades of bright pink and red. The screen tilts at an angle and Louis gets a brief flash of a row of empty church pews. When the camera is right side up again, Liam comes into view standing off to the side from Harry whose holding hands with someone, he can’t hear what’s being said because Niall’s fingers are covering the speaker, but Louis doesn’t need to hear to know what’s going on, because a few seconds later the camera dips again and a drunken version of Louis can now be seen in the frame.

 

His blood runs cold as he watches himself doing things he has absolutely no recollection of. He watches himself swaying to stand up straight as Niall’s arm comes into view to give him an exact replica of the ring on he saw on Harry’s finger this morning.

 

Niall readjusts the phone in his hand, and finally there is sound as the officiator instructs him to slide the ring onto Harry’s finger. Harry does the same when it’s his turn, smiling like a complete idiot while Louis exclaims that this is the best night of his life. He’s thankful when the sound cuts out again so that he doesn’t have to hear himself say I do. The last thing he sees before the screen goes black is their first kiss as a married couple. Louis is certain that he’s going to throw up.

 

He turns on Niall in an instant.

 

“Why didn’t you stop us?! What the fuck?!”

 

Niall scoffs at him. “Did you not see the quality of that video? I’m lucky I was even conscious at that point! How was I supposed to stop you two from doing anything?”

 

Louis’ head has never felt heavier as it throbs in the palms of his hands. He can’t think. He can’t do anything except continuously loop his own stupidly happy face in his mind over and over again as he became a married man in a chapel with a flashing cupid hanging on the wall. God, that place was so tacky.

 

He turns his nose up at his ring finger, resenting the cheap metal glinting back up at him.

 

“Do you believe me now?” Liam mocks as he stares at him with an unapologetic expression. “There’s another video of the walk back to the hotel if you still think this is a prank. Harry’s screaming about consummating the marriage, so.”

 

Louis shudders with a miserable groan into his hands. “Delete those videos right now!” he shouts at Niall who has already taken the phone back.

 

“Better not. We might need them later…plus, Harry’s probably going to need convincing as well.”

 

Shit. Amongst the constant stream of swears being chanted in his mind, Louis had almost completely forgotten about Harry, his husband.

 

Niall spots him a few seconds later as he walks into the restaurant. “Oh, look. There he is,” Niall says, completely emotionless. “I bet all of my poker chips from last night that he cries. I’d cry if I married you.”

 

Liam glares at him and Louis nudges him in the arm to shut him up as Harry approaches.

 

He looks more human right now than all of them combined, fresh out of the shower with a timid grin on his lips as he sits down next to Liam, and raises and eyebrow at the somber mood of the table.

 

He cuts his eyes over at Liam who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world than where he’s currently sitting. Louis pinches the bridge of his nose to stave off a fresh wave a pain that surges through his head when Harry furrows his brow and asks, “What’s wrong?”

 

Louis buries his head in his arms. He doesn’t even know where to begin.

 

~*~

 

Harry feels sick. He’s just watched both videos that Niall had taken of him and Louis last night, Louis wincing into his hands at both his and Harry’s loud, inebriated declarations of love. So now, here he sits married to a man he hardly knows. One that definitely doesn’t want to be married to him. It shouldn’t but the situation is making Harry see all kinds of parallels with his failed relationship with Isaac, making him feel, once again, not good enough. It’s stupid because he doesn’t want to be married to Louis either. He shouldn’t be feeling so rejected.

 

“Um,” Harry mumbles, handing the phone back to Niall. “I just… I need some time to think.”

 

Harry stands from the table. He’s not even hungry anymore. Liam looks like he’s going to follow Harry but Harry subtly waves him off.

 

Somehow he ends up playing the slots. There’s a flashing sign announcing the possibility of winning three million dollars over the bank of machines that Harry’s parked himself at. He pays it no mind. He’s not actually playing to win anything, the mindless rhythm of insert quarter, pull lever, repeat helping to clearing his head so that he can figure out what he’s supposed to do now.

 

“Hey.”

 

Harry looks over his shoulder at the sound of Louis’ voice. He’s actually really surprised to see Louis. Harry had him pegged as the type of guy that ran from his problems, not the type that faced them head on.

 

“Hey,” Harry replies, turning back to his machine. Insert quarter, pull lever.

 

“Win anything?” Louis asks, obviously stalling. So, Harry wasn’t so far off with his assessment after all.

 

“No,” Harry answers, lifting his last quarter to the slot.

 

“Want me to blow on it for luck?” Louis asks, laughing nervously.

 

Harry stops abruptly, giving Louis a scathing look, arm still hanging in the air. “That’s dice.”

 

Louis shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first thing I’ve blown that wasn’t dice.”

 

Harry can’t take it anymore. He drops the quarter back down on the machine and puts both hands in his hair, trying to resist the urge to pull it all out. He drops his arms to his sides and settles for clenching his fists instead. “What are we supposed to do now, Louis? Do we get a divorce? An annulment? I know for a fact we consummated the marriage, so can we even get an annulment?”

 

“Relax, Harry. We’ll figure it out,” Louis tries to calm him but Harry’s not easily calmed when he’s feeling like this.

 

“How, Louis? We’re not even in our home country. Do we have to end this here or at home? I don’t even know, do you?”

 

“Harry, calm down. God, you worry too much. I said we’ll figure it out and we will,” Louis tells him and Harry can tell from his tone of voice that Louis is losing patience with him. Well, Harry’s almost out of patience, too.

 

“You know why I worry too much, Louis? Because people like you don’t worry at all. You say you’ll figure it out but then you actually leave it up to people like me to come up with your solutions for you. So, I’ll worry as much as I like, thank you very much,” Harry yells. It’s not much but releasing his anger in Louis’ direction does actually calm him a little.

 

“I know I was drunk last night but I would have thought, even drunk, that I would have better taste. I’m so glad that I didn’t actually like you because a marriage between us would never work,” Louis laughs at him. Harry hates that it actually hurts. “Oh, I think I found a loophole to get us out of this marriage. Doesn’t the fact that you’re a fucking robot null the contract? Problem solved!”

 

Harry bites his lip to keep it from quivering. He stays silent until he’s sure he has himself under control. He’s so used to doing this that it doesn’t take long. “You know what, Lou? I’d rather be a robot that actually cares than an empty shell of a human that won’t let himself feel anything.”

 

“You don’t know me,” Louis snorts at Harry like he’s unbothered. Harry envies him a bit.

 

“And I don’t want to,” Harry tells Louis, stalking away to go find Liam and get the hell out of this awful place.

 

“Well, good riddance then!” Louis yells and Harry turns to see Louis playing his last quarter in the slot machine.

 

“That’s my quarter,” Harry calls. He doesn’t really care about the quarter. It’s the principle of the thing.

 

Louis gives Harry the middle finger and Harry turns to leave again, shaking his head at Louis’ childish antics when he hears bells and whistles going off behind him.

 

Harry spins around to find Louis frozen in place, staring at the slot machine and the flashing sign saying he’s won the jackpot.

 

Harry’s feet carry him across the floor without Harry really even noticing. “What happened?”

 

Louis’ eyes trail over to Harry, shock evident on his features. “I just won three million dollars.”

 

“Well, yeah, with my quarter,” Harry can’t help saying.

 

The reminder of the fact that they were fighting before seems to help Louis shake off a bit of the shock. “Ok, here’s five bucks. Congrats. Get yourself something nice.”

 

“You’re kidding, right?” Harry asks but still takes the five dollar bill. “You’re sharing the three million.”

 

“No way,” Louis argues as someone shows up to hand him a giant check. “I won this fair and square.”

 

Louis smiles prettily for the cameras that arrived along with the check for a photo op with the winner, not seeming to realize that Harry is holding the check at the side and taking up space in the pictures, too.

 

“Hey, get off. This is mine,” Louis says, yanking the check from Harry’s hands and speed walking away when the photos are done.

 

“Oh, Louis?” Harry calls as Louis hurries ahead of him. “Sweetie?”

 

The pet name has Louis spinning around, eyes narrowed as he checks what Harry wants.

 

“I think you’re forgetting something,” Harry says raising his hand and showing Louis his ring finger. The one with the wedding ring on it. “What’s yours is mine, babe.”

 

Harry’s pretty sure that Louis wants to kill him. He’s also pretty sure that he doesn’t care. He hasn’t felt this good in ages.

 

~*~

 

A trip which was supposed to be an escape for all of life’s problems turns out to be the biggest headache that Louis has ever had to deal with. He and Niall immediately hit the internet to find a way out of this as soon as Harry started using phrases such as ‘our money’ in reference to his slot machine winnings.

 

They haven’t even been married for a year, so they aren’t eligible for a divorce, and neither of them is a resident of Nevada, so they can’t file for an annulment until they’re back home. He and Harry definitely had sex after the wedding so Louis can’t use that in his defense to get out of their marriage, however he was absolutely wrecked when they said ‘I do’. Niall is a witness to how wasted he was, so he plans to play the ‘I didn’t know what I was doing’ card. His plan is flawless.

 

The marriage isn’t even his biggest concern, if he’s honest. That all comes secondary to what’s really at stake here which is his future as a multi-millionaire. Harry can keep his last name and even the cheap plastic ring Louis probably bought out of a gum machine, but he refuses to share that money.

 

Louis is just thinking about all of the fantastic things he’s going to do with his money when he catches Harry glaring at him from across the corridor of the court office. Louis has been doing a pretty stellar job of ignoring him since they’ve been waiting for their turn with the judge, but there’s something in his expression that makes Louis want to put a wrench in whatever plan Harry thinks he has constructed to beat him. There’s no way this judge isn’t going to side with Louis.

 

He shoots a smug smirk in Harry’s direction and even winks for good measure, causing the boy’s face to crinkle into a frown that is a weird mixture of appalled and disgusted. Liam looks like he’s about to say something when the big wooden door swings open and a woman in tears comes rushing out of it. That’s the second person they’ve seen go in to see the judge and come out like their whole world has been destroyed. Louis raises an eyebrow, wondering what kind of messes these people have gotten themselves into for the judge to not side with them. He breathes a sigh of relief to himself, thanking God that he won’t end up like them. He is leaving here a bachelor again; a very rich one at that.

 

Louis smiles when they get called into the courtroom to stand in front of the judge. The judge asks why they’re there and Louis is all too happy to tell him of the unfortunate circumstances that led to Harry trying to steal his money right from under his nose.

 

The judge listens, but doesn’t seem as moved by his tale as Louis had hoped, so Louis repeats the part about him being off his face.

 

“So you see, your honor, I lost track of the amount of drinks I had, and I realize how very irresponsible that was of me, but I honestly have no memory of agreeing to get married. I wasn’t even aware of what I was doing, so I think the best thing would be for us have the contract annulled so that we can both move on with our lives.”

 

Louis has Niall play enough of the video of their wedding just so the judge can see how drunk he was before Niall turns it off.

 

“That’s not all that was recorded,” Harry pipes up. “There’s more to that video and there’s also another video of us right after the wedding that shows how committed we were to each other.”

 

The judge narrows his eyes at Louis and Niall. “Is that true?”

 

Louis’ first instinct is to lie, but he doesn’t know the penalty for lying to a judge off the top of his head, so he decides against it.

 

“Er-…well, there’s a bit more to it, but I don’t think it’s really relevant to why we’re here tod-”

 

“Play it. All of it.”

 

Niall’s face is wary when he does what the judge asked. Louis grimaces when he hears himself declaring Harry the love of his life over and over again. He refuses to look in his direction to see his smug face after both videos have finished playing.

 

“As you can clearly hear and see, your honor, Louis and I were very well aware of what our union meant to each other. It’s true that the ceremony wasn’t planned, but Louis’ proposal was so sudden and sincere that neither of us wanted to wait.”

 

The judge stares at Harry almost as blankly as he did when Louis was the one spinning his web of lies. He lets out a long sigh before continuing. “Explain the issue with the money again,” he says to no one in particular.

 

“I had a very lucky pull off of one of the slot machines and won the jackpot-”

 

“With my quarter,” Harry interjects.

 

“It was me who did the winning, though,” Louis continues.

 

“We were married at the time that you used my quarter to win that money, so technically half of it belongs to me even if the marriage is annulled.”

 

Louis can feel each piece of his heart breaking inside of his chest as the judge seems to take Harry’s words under consideration. He glances over at Harry to find the bastard actually smirking. He can’t believe this is happening.

 

The judge is silent for a long while before he looks up at both of them with boredom and annoyance clear on his face.

 

“I’m not annulling this marriage today,” he states, causing Harry and Liam to share celebratory grins. Louis feels sick to his stomach. How can the judge not side with him? “But, I’m not splitting the money between you two either,” he continues. The light dies out of Harry’s eyes, but Louis has never heard better news.

 

“Thank you so much!” he exclaims, now picturing the millions that belong only to him. Sadly, Louis rejoices too soon.

 

“You will stay married since you two think matrimony is some kind of a game, and neither of you will be able to touch those winnings because I’m freezing them until further notice.”

 

Harry sounds as panicked as Louis feels when the judge’s ruling catches up to his brain.

 

“B-But- How can you do that? How can you freeze the money and not grant the annulment?”

 

“My job is to interpret the law and make sure it is justly carried out. I think you two deserve to live with your choices for a little while. Taking a little responsibility for your actions would do both of you some good.”

 

Harry’s jaw drops like he can’t believe the judge just said that to him. People are always telling Louis to grow up, so he’s honestly not that shocked, but he didn’t expect to hear it today in this courtroom. Louis doesn’t know how this happened. He and Niall had a plan for fuck’s sake!

 

“But, wait! How long are we supposed to stay like this?” Louis asks.

 

“I think six months of trying to make this relationship work sounds like a good amount of time. And when I say trying to make it work I mean putting forth a real effort, otherwise I’ll tie this money up so well that neither of you will ever get your hands on it. You will live together like the married couple that you are and you’ll go to marital counseling once a week so that I can keep track of your progress.”

 

He slams the gavel down without giving either of them time to argue. The sound rings out like a death sentence.

 

“I’ll see you both in six months.”

 

~*~

 

Harry is about to hyperventilate as Liam drags him out of the court room, all of his false bravado gone in the face of the judge’s verdict. He regrets everything. He should have just sided with Louis about wanting an annulment and they might actually have one right now. He doesn’t actually care about the stupid money, he just didn’t want Louis to have it after the hurtful things he’d said.

 

“I have to stay married to him for six months?!?”

 

“Harry, calm down. We’ll figure this out,” Liam says, running what Harry assumes is supposed to be a calming hand down his back.

 

“Why do people keep telling me that?” Harry turns to Liam, panicked. “It’s never true. Nothing ever gets figured out! And now, I’m stuck married to a man that couldn’t give two shits about me and…”

 

Harry trails off, blinking back a sudden onset of ‘something’s in my eye’ and walking over to the nearest bench to sit and catch his breath.

 

“It’ll be okay, Harry,” Liam says sitting next to his best friend and taking his hand. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. You can do this.”

 

Harry just stares at his shoes until Liam bumps their shoulders together.

 

“Also, we’re pretty smart, you and I. I’m sure we can think of a way to keep that douchenozzle from getting the money and get you out of this marriage,” Liam promises.

 

Harry’s gaze lifts from the floor to meet Liam’s and there’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes. They are pretty smart, maybe they can figure this out. He’s lucky to have a friend like Liam who’s willing to stick this out with him. “How?”

 

Liam is quiet for a minute as he thinks but before he can say anything, a big blobby shadow falls over them and Harry looks up to see Louis and Niall standing there, looking down on them. Who’s he kidding? Louis has probably always been looking down on him, Harry thinks.

 

“So, your place or mine, sweetheart?” Louis asks with a smarmy grin that Harry already knows is going to drive him up the wall. He knows on some level that Louis must be as repulsed by the situation nearly as much as he is but he hates that Louis can appear so completely unbothered.

 

“Oh my god,” Harry mutters, face falling into his hands as he’s reminded of just how horrible the situation is. He doesn’t just have to stay married to Louis, he has to share a living space with him.

 

“Well, don’t sound so excited,” Louis chirps cheerfully and Harry gets the definite impression that rather than being offended, he’s actually enjoying Harry’s pain. “I’m not thrilled to be sharing a bed with you again either.”

 

“Whoa, wait. Stop right there,” Liam says on Harry’s behalf. “Just because you have to live together doesn’t mean he’s sharing a bed with you. Keep your grubby hands to yourself.”

 

Harry really must tell Liam more often just how much he appreciates his friendship.

 

“Well, I’ve only got the one,” Louis replies with a shrug, addressing Harry rather than Liam. “So, unless you’ve got a really nice flat with a guest room, someone’s sleeping on the sofa. And by ‘someone’, I mean you.”

 

“Whatever, that’s fine,” Harry mumbles, rising to his feet and doing his best to ignore Liam’s look of confusion.

 

“So, mine then?” Louis asks, far too pleased at the way things are going. Harry should probably be worried.

 

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Harry asks, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Give Liam the address. I’m just going to go throw up somewhere and question my existence.”

 

Liam finds Harry in the bathroom a few minutes later. He’s bent over the sink, face dripping from splashing water on it in hopes of waking himself up from this nightmare.

 

“Harry.” Liam sounds so disappointed in him. It can’t possibly be worse than the disappointment Harry feels in himself. Why must he fuck everything up so badly?

 

Liam moves to grab some paper towels and straightens Harry up by his shoulders, turning him around so that he can dry Harry’s face for him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

 

It doesn’t sound like the reprimand Harry thinks it probably should be. After all, he’s just given up the home court advantage. He’s going into this battle on Louis’ turf, giving the other man a leg up on him already. But Liam isn’t scolding him, he’s simply trying to get a handle on his best mate’s mood.

 

“You actually do have a guest room, Harry. Why are you moving in with him? Wouldn’t it be easier—”

 

“I don’t want him invading my home, Liam,” Harry interrupts. It’s not the whole truth. Harry doesn’t have the strength just now to explain what’s really going on. He can barely be honest with himself about the fact that it would hurt too much to go back to his flat again. He knows he has to go back to pack his things but to have to stay there, it would be far too overwhelming. Harry doesn’t think he could handle having to live there with Louis, the space already cleared of Isaac’s things and haunted by memories of failures that are too fresh in Harry’s mind. Louis would know why there were blank spaces on the walls, empty shelves on the book case. It would just be more ammo to hurt Harry with. And Harry isn’t willing to give him that satisfaction.

 

“Ok,” Liam answers simply. Harry thinks he probably knows that there are things he’s not telling him, but he’s too good a friend to ask when Harry is so obviously mourning the state of his life at the moment.

 

Harry tries to shake the bleak thoughts from his mind as Liam goes to throw away the paper towels. “So, how are we getting me out of this?

 

Liam smiles at him and Harry actually feels the slightest bit better at the sight of it. “Well, I was thinking…”

 

~*~

 

Louis wakes up on the day of the move-in and immediately wishes he could go back to sleep and avoid the whole thing. ‘What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’ is the bullshit slogan that he keeps bitterly repeating to himself as he blinks his eyes open. It’s the slogan that led him to believe he could do whatever the hell he wanted while he was there and get away with it, but somehow he did it wrong, because what happened in Vegas isn’t staying there. It’s coming home to fucking live with him.

 

He sighs as he flips over to stare at his ceiling, the same dingy one he’s been looking at for years. His flat isn’t anything special. It’s small and filled with so much clutter and junk that sometimes even Louis thinks he needs to do a bit of Spring cleaning and throw some of it out, but it’s his home and he loves it regardless of its size and disorder.

 

Someone who probably wouldn’t appreciate his flat’s particular brand of charm of course is Harry. He’s so together and responsible all the time that Louis doesn’t really see him enjoying the next six months that he has to stay here.

 

After he ruined Louis’ plans in the courtroom, his first thought had been to make this move as difficult for Harry as possible as payback, but Niall told him not to. Niall thinks that if he plays nice and does what the judge says and actually tries, then he might get what he wants at the end of this. It’s not really his style to do what he’s told, but Louis is all for being a multi-millionaire, so he can put up with his control-freak of a spouse for a few lousy months if it means that huge of a payoff.

 

Louis forces himself up and out of bed to shower after he’s done pouting, and when he steps out into his living room Niall is there sitting on his sofa. He’s frowning at the static screen of his tv as he uselessly tries to change the channel.

 

“Mate, what the fuck is wrong with your tv?”

 

Louis walks to his kitchen and is too lazy to make tea so he takes a few swallows from the carton of milk on the top shelf instead.  “Haven’t paid the bill,” Louis answers as he places the carton back in the fridge and shuts the door.

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because, I’m rationing my money. I’m unemployed remember?” Louis spent more of his step-father’s money than he really meant to during his little holiday. He doesn’t want to push the limit more than he already has, so he’s just paying for the important things like clothes, food, beer, and rent. Luckily, he’ll have help in the rent department now that Harry’s moving in with him.

 

Niall shakes his head at his own forgetfulness. “Shit. We’ve been so focused on other stuff that I forgot all about your stepdad firing you. What did your parents say when you told them Harry was moving in?”

 

Louis comes to sit beside Niall, letting his head rest against the back of the sofa with his eyes closed. “Nothing, because I haven’t told them.”

 

He doesn’t think they’d have much to say if they learned about him accidentally getting married and then bringing his husband back to live with him, because he has done some pretty fucked up things in the past. He’d probably have to endure a big speech about growing up and being responsible, but what concerns Louis the most is that his confession would raise a few questions about how he even got to Vegas to begin with, and he’s not quite ready for his stepdad to realize he forgot to take back his company card.

 

Niall gives him a sympathetic look. “Well, hopefully they won’t find out and if they ever do, you’ll be so filthy rich that you won’t care,” he grins, trying to cheer Louis up.

 

Louis loves him so much. Niall is an idiot and they’ve both gotten into a lot of trouble over the years for making dumb decisions, but Louis could never regret them being friends. They’re two peas in pod, him and Niall.

 

Louis lets out a loud sigh. “Why couldn’t it have been the two of us to get shitfaced and accidentally married, Ni? It would’ve been much simpler that way.”

 

“Okay, I’ll never be that drunk and thankfully I’m not your type,” Niall tells him. Louis sighs again, knowing he’s right. His preference is more of the tall, devastatingly gorgeous type with full lips and fit legs that make him do stupid things like pull a marriage proposal out of his arse in the middle of the fucking desert.

 

He watches as Niall surveys the room they’re in, taking in the bookshelf that has more used teacups on it than works of literature. There are takeaway boxes on nearly every surface, and there’s a random pair of underwear hanging from his life-sized figurine of Spiderman that he bought last year at a comic convention. Niall raises his eyebrows like he’s just now realizing how much a dump Louis’ flat is.

 

“You ever think about throwing some of these takeaway boxes out?” he asks right when a couple of knocks to his door cause both of their heads to turn in that direction. “Never mind, he’s here. It’s too late now,” Niall shrugs, now eyeing a dark stain on the sofa. Niall moves his leg so that he’s not touching it. Louis has no idea what it could be so he thinks it’s probably for the best.

 

“My flat isn’t dirty. It just has a lot of character,” Louis tells him, because Harry insisted on moving into his space. He signed up for this and Louis’ not changing his life around just because he happens to now be in it.

 

Louis sighs long and hard before forcing himself up to go let his new flat mate in. He opens the door and his eyes fall on the stack of boxes Harry’s balancing in his arms. He’s tempted to let him continue to struggle with them, but the gentleman in Louis (no matter how small) makes him offer to help.

 

“I’ll take some of those if you want.”

 

Harry stares at his outstretched arm for a few seconds, but eventually allows him to take one.

 

“Thanks,” he says as he steps inside and freezes where he is. Louis watches as Harry’s eyes do a quick sweep of the place and land in the same spots that Niall’s had. His eyebrows furrow and he looks like he’s barely breathing, but he doesn’t say a word.

 

Louis hears someone coming up the stairs and then suddenly Liam appears. He’s talking to Harry about one more box that’s still down in the car when he stops mid-sentence. “What the hell happened in here?” he asks with wide eyes. He looks more horrified than Harry.

 

“Nothing happened in here,” Louis rolls his eyes. “This is my flat. Is something wrong?” Louis asks, seeing no reason at all for their reactions to a few spoons and plates lying around.

 

Harry takes a very deep breath. He closes his eyes for a few moments before speaking. “Everything’s fine. It’s very charming. The décor is…lovely,” he says, in the fakest voice Louis has ever heard as his eyes fall to his Spiderman figurine again. Niall snorts from where he’ still sitting on the sofa watching them. Louis hates him.

 

“Anyway, like I said, I only have one bedroom, so you can have the sofa. I think I have an extra set of sheets if you didn’t bring any.”

 

Harry looks at the piece of furniture like it may grow legs at any moment. “Okay. Thanks,” he says, sounding a lot calmer than his face is letting on.

 

He doesn’t protest the takeaway boxes and he doesn’t even try to get Louis to renegotiate their sleeping arrangements. Actually, now that Louis thinks about it, this whole thing has been pretty easy so far. Harry has been in his flat for a whole ten minutes and has been pretty agreeable when it’s obvious he wants nothing more than to leave. It kind of makes Louis feel bad for not at least putting all the teacups in the sink where they belong.

 

Liam leaves to go get the last box from downstairs after giving Harry’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. Harry drops the two boxes he’s currently holding and begins digging through one of them, taking out stacks of neatly folded clothing and placing them beside him on the floor in a spot free of any debris.

 

It feels weird to be standing there doing nothing with Harry being so quiet and Louis doesn’t know what to do with himself as Harry gets to work unpacking. He tries to think of something else to say just so it isn’t so awkward and thankfully remembers the thing about the spare key.

 

“So, I uh, I meant to get it done yesterday and the day before, but I kind of forgot to get you a key.”

 

Harry freezes and Louis hears the very audible, measured breath he takes. When he speaks again he doesn’t sound quite as agreeable as before. Louis thinks he can even hear a bit of frustration in his tone.

 

“Did you forget that I was moving in today?”

 

“No, I didn’t,” Louis answers in a huff. “I just forgot about the key.”

 

“Why, because you’ve been so busy?”

 

Louis isn’t sure if that was a direct dig at him and his messy flat and the fact that he isn’t currently working anywhere or not, but it sure sounded like one from the way he said it. Louis smirks to himself at his tone.

 

“I’m just going to let you use Niall’s instead,” he continues like Harry said nothing at all. There’s no point in getting a third key when Harry’s only going to be here for a short amount of time. It’s not like this is permanent. Harry takes the key and slips it into his pocket when Niall slips it off his key ring. “You can just give it back to him in six months,” Louis shrugs with a grin of his own.

 

“Oh, I will,” Harry promises them both.

 

*

 

Louis pretty much leaves Harry to himself for the rest of the day. He doesn’t say much except to ask Louis where certain things are kept and if he minds him cleaning up the bathroom so he can take a shower. Besides those few quick interactions Harry doesn’t really acknowledge him, which is fine by Louis. If Harry’s ignoring him then it’s almost like he’s not even here, but he just seems so off. He’s so quiet that Louis is a bit concerned.

 

It’s barely even nine o’clock when Louis steps out of his room to find Harry curled up on the sofa with a book. There’s a new blue lamp on the table that puts off a soft glow around him and the room. Harry blinks up at him when he notices Louis standing there.

 

“That’s a cool lamp,” Louis tries, as he perches himself on the arm of the sofa furthest away from Harry.

 

Harry lays his book down on the crisp white sheets covering the sofa cushions, sheets that are far too expensive looking and clean to be the ones Louis offered him. “It’s just a lamp,” Harry says, meeting his eyes.

 

Louis mentally scolds himself for trying to start a conversation by using Harry’s lamp as an icebreaker. What did he really expect Harry say to that? “…So. What are you reading, then?”

 

“A book,” Harry narrows his eyes at him. “What is it that you really want, Louis?”

 

Louis scoffs at the stubborn boy on his sofa who may seem like he’s fragile, but Louis knows for fact he’s got some bite. Louis was just trying to be nice like Niall suggested, but Harry’s making it difficult by not playing along.

 

“I was trying be a good host and make sure you’re alright out here. Isn’t that what hosts do?”

 

Harry glances around the room still covered in filth aside from the little island he’s carved out for himself where he’s curled up. “I’m fine. Your tv doesn’t work, but I like to read a little before bed anyway, so...that’s what I was doing.” That sounds like the most boring thing in the world, but Louis isn’t going to argue with him.

 

“Well, that sounds fun. I guess I’ll just leave you to it then,” Louis rolls his eyes as he heads out of the living room. He was only doing what the judge said, which was to try. Louis knows he can be a right arse at times, but that was a real attempt just then. He looks over his shoulder and finds Harry still watching him as he leaves. “I know you don’t really want to be here. You were trying to pretend like it was fine earlier when Liam and Niall were here, but I could tell.”

 

“So?” Harry shrugs. “It’s not like you really want me in your flat, Louis. You only agreed to me moving here because it was less work for you.”

 

“Whatever. Mope around if you want. I’m going to my room. Remind me to never check on you again,” Louis tells him.

 

“Goodnight,” he hears Harry shout right before he closes his bedroom door.

 

Louis flops down on his bed annoyed and wondering how the hell he’s supposed to do this. Half a year is a long time, but it hadn’t seemed quite so bad this morning when he pictured it, especially when he imagined the money he’d get for all of his troubles. That was before Harry had gotten here though, and now the six months stretch out in front of him like a vast ocean with no end in sight and it’s only day one. The sudden realization of the task ahead of him only gets worse when he remembers they have to go to fucking marital counseling starting in a few days.

 

~*~

 

Harry wakes with a crick in his neck and an ache in his back but it’s not the pain that makes him groan. It’s the knowledge that he’s going to be waking up like this for the next six months unless he can get out of this mess. He can’t wait to put Liam’s plan into effect but the other boy thought it might be best to wait a week or two, so that Louis doesn’t suspect anything. Harry hopes to god it works because he doesn’t think he can live in this pit for the next six months.

 

“Shut that fucking thing off!” Harry hears Louis’ yell, muffled through the door to his room, and purposely lets the alarm on his phone play for a good thirty seconds longer.

 

He’s just shut it off when Louis’ bedroom door flies open. “Is that going to be going off at 5am every morning?”

 

“Yes,” Harry answers, sitting up and grabbing his running clothes from the top of the pile he’s made next to his ‘bed’. “I go running every morning before work.”

 

“Well, how about for the next six months you do us both a favor and sleep in instead?” Louis suggests, moving to his refrigerator and drinking some milk straight from the carton.

 

Harry makes a face and a mental note not to drink any milk while he’s staying here. Maybe he can buy himself some soy milk. Louis seems the type to be disgusted by all things healthy, he’d probably be disturbed enough to stay away from it.

 

“I haven’t slept in since I was sixteen,” Harry answers, tightening his hands around his clothes as he watches milk trail down the sides of Louis’ mouth and slip down his neck. Louis seems unbothered and it’s a bit like watching a car crash. Harry is horrified but he can’t seem to look away.

 

Louis finally pulls the milk carton away from his lips, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “There’s your problem, mate,” Louis offers as he puts the carton back in the fridge. “You’ve forgotten how to relax.”

 

“Well, the last time I was relaxed I ended up married so,” Harry retorts.

 

“You’re right,” Louis agrees, walking back towards his room. “Better for everyone if you keep that stick firmly planted up your arse.”

 

“It’s better than beating my spouse to death with it,” Harry mutters to the empty room, changing quickly. He’s already running a bit late and he has to work out a new route since he’s living in an unfamiliar neighborhood.

 

Once he’s dressed, he pulls his hair into a bun, grabs his Ipod and the key he got from Niall, and jogs out the door.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

Harry has to hurry to get in the shower when he gets back from his run. Figuring out his route for the next six months took longer than it should have and now he’s eight minutes behind schedule.

 

He tears his clothes off in the bathroom and hops in the shower. It’s an extremely short shower due to the fact that, two minutes in, the hot water goes out. Harry yelps as the water turns icy against his skin and he swears that he hears Louis’ cackle as he scrambles to rinse the shampoo out of his hair. He’s shaking by the time he gets out and wraps a towel around himself.

 

He comes out of the bathroom to see Louis smirking up from a bowl of cereal as he leans against the kitchen counter. “The hot water is a bit tricky first thing in the morning. Forgot to tell you, sorry.”

 

Somehow, Harry doubts that he’s actually sorry.

 

“It’s fine,” Harry lies but he thinks the trembling of his lips probably gives him away. He grabs a garment bag that Liam hung carefully on the rack by the front door and carries it back into the bathroom with him.

 

He comes out dressed and ready for work, his curls mostly dry and his suit sleek and pressed.

 

He looks in the kitchen worriedly when he hears Louis choke on his breakfast.

 

“Do you always dress like that?” Louis asks once his coughing fit is under control.

 

“Yes,” Harry answers, looking around for his briefcase. Where did Liam put it? “I work for Cowell Entertainment.”

 

“Is that a strip club or something?” Louis questions, leering at Harry with yet more milk on his chin.

 

“You’re disgusting,” Harry says instead of answering, identifying his briefcase behind the table that holds his reading lamp.

 

“No, seriously. What is that?” Louis presses, seeming to realize there’s something on his face, likely left over from his coughing fit, and wipes it with the bottom of his shirt. He sounds genuinely curious so Harry graces him with an answer this time.

 

“It’s a production company.”

 

“So, what? You’re like some big shot in the industry?”

 

“No, I work for a big shot in the industry. And I’m running late.”

 

When Harry makes a move for the door, Louis puts his bowl in the sink and calls out, “Wait”.

 

Harry knows he’s going to regret it but he stops and turns to see what Louis wants.

 

Louis walks over and presses a wet kiss to Harry’s cheek. “Have a good day, sweetheart.”

 

From the way Louis bats his eyes and sickly sweet tone to his voice, Harry knows he’s taking the piss. He’s ashamed to admit that it makes his chest ache when Louis makes light of things that Harry actually wants. He wants someone to see him off to work each morning, giving him sweet goodbye kisses, and wishing him a good day. But, you know, by someone who means it.

 

“I’m sure I will,” he says bitingly. “I get nine whole hours free of you.”

 

“You know you’re going to miss me.”

 

Harry scoffs. “Don’t count on it.”

 

~*~

 

Louis climbed right back into bed after Harry left for work and when he woke up three hours later it was to the peaceful sound of silence rather than Harry’s shrill fucking alarm. What kind of person trades sleep for exercise, anyway? It’s just the sort of thing he’d expect Harry to do. Louis suspects he also likes smoothies and other unnecessary shit like yoga and kale.

 

He’s starving when he finally forces himself out of bed. He heads straight for his bathroom to take a shower when he decides he doesn’t want another bowl of cereal and would rather go out for food instead.

 

All of the surfaces are glossy and bright when Louis steps in to the bathroom that he hardly even recognizes as his own anymore. The floor is so spotless that Louis raises an eyebrow at the light cream color of the tiles which has pretty much been covered in a layer of dirt since Louis moved in. He can admit that his bathroom was disgusting even by his own standards before Harry cleaned it up, so he makes a bit of an effort to keep the sink free of so much of his stubble when he shaves, and he aims all the used tissue he balls up to land inside the bin instead of just near it.

 

Louis leaves his flat and fills up his day with exploring the city and kicking a football around the park a few blocks away, and yet somehow it’s not even five o’clock by the time he gets back home.

 

Harry isn’t back yet, though it’s not like he gave a time for when he’d be home, and it’s not like Louis really cares when he returns. He just figured he’d be back by now is all. He looks the type to be boring all day at work and then come straight home after. He briefly wonders what someone like Harry even does after work. It’s not like he goes out to have any fun, so whatever it is must be dreadful.

 

Louis has a couple of missed calls from his mother that he pointedly ignores, and every time he looks at the black screen of his tv he sighs.

 

Niall and everyone else he knows is still at work or is just getting off from their jobs, so he can’t call them or go see what they’re up to yet. Louis hated going to work for his stepdad every day, despised it even, so it’s not like it’s his actual job that he misses, but he does miss having somewhere that he needs to be. When he’s allowed to have his money he won’t have to work at all, so he knows he’ll have to find some way to keep himself busy. Maybe he’ll get into a new hobby or become a philanthropist or travel or something with all of his millions, but for now he’s just bored.

 

The key turns in the door about an hour later when Harry walks in carrying his briefcase and a few paper bags in his arms.

 

“Hi,” he offers, spotting Louis in the armchair near the sofa. He puts down everything he’s holding to take off his suit jacket and untuck his shirt from his slacks.

 

Louis was taken by surprise this morning when Harry went into the bathroom all gross and sweaty and then stepped out dressed like a Tom Ford model. That’s probably a Tom Ford suit he has on right now or at least one that’s just as expensive from how well it fits him.

 

“I think you’re supposed to say something more along the lines of, ‘Honey, I’m home,” Louis says in lieu of a proper hello.

 

Harry rolls his eyes at him, looking a bit more worn than he had this morning. Work must have taken a lot out of him. He watches Harry walk into the kitchen to put away the things he bought, completely ignoring Louis’ comment from before.

 

“Did you miss our love shack while you were gone?” Louis sweetly grins.

 

“Not even a little bit,” Harry answers, coming back to the living room. He drops down onto the sofa and loosens a couple more buttons on his shirt as he props his feet up with a relieved sigh. It only occurs to Louis after a few minutes have passed that he’s probably intruding on Harry’s space by sitting here and should probably give him some space.

 

He’s just about to leave when he cracks his eyes open to glance over at Louis from where he’s resting his head on the back of the sofa. “So, what did you do all day?”

 

Louis settles back into the armchair to answer him. “Well, for starters I went back to sleep as soon you left and then woke up at a decent hour.”

 

“Oh, you mean noon?” Harry smiles with sarcasm dripping all over his words.

 

Louis turns the question around on him and asks about Harry’s day. “How was work, my darling? You look tense. Hard day at the office?” he smirks.

 

Harry doesn’t react to the way he bats his eyelashes at him, but he does answer his question.

 

“Work was challenging, but I’ve always liked that about my job, so I don’t mind.”

 

Something tells him that Harry really does enjoy hard work, which only further confirms the fact that he’s a weirdo.

 

“I had a hard day too, you know. The coffee shop ‘round the corner got my order wrong, so I had to wait around for like fifteen extra minutes for them to fix it. It was awful.”

 

Harry just stares at him. “Are you being serous right now?”

 

“No,” Louis laughs. “I had an amazing day! And I got a free doughnut for the inconvenience of having to wait,” he beams. “Life doesn’t get much better than that.”

 

“That was a riveting story. Glad it all worked out in the end,” Harry mutters, going back to resting his eyes.

 

Louis’ stomach rumbles in the middle of him trying to think of something annoying he can say to Harry for being a sarcastic prick, so his focus is off. He’s starving again, has been for the past hour, but for some reason he chose to wait around. He glances over at Harry who’s still unwinding from the day, and Louis knows that he’ll most likely have to go back out to get something to eat, mostly because he can barely boil water successfully and raw meat is gross, but Harry seems to like doing domestic tasks… maybe his new husband also enjoys cooking and most importantly sharing.

 

“So,” he begins with a hopeful lift of his eyebrow. “Dinner…”

 

Harry’s eyelids crack open again to look at him with a little crease between his eyebrows. “What about it?”

 

Louis shrugs with a quick, inconspicuous look towards the kitchen. “Well…it’s getting to be about that time, and I’m not sure if you cook at all or…”

 

Harry’s perplexed expression changes to understanding when he follows Louis’ gaze to the stove and immediately shuts down any hopes he had of a free meal. 

 

“I’m supposed to meet Liam in a few minutes. I just came back to change and drop off my stuff from work.”

 

“Oh. Yeah, of course,” Louis hurries to say. “I’m meeting Niall later, so.” Harry watches him for a few moments like he may know Louis doesn’t really have any dinner plans, but thankfully he doesn’t say anything. Louis stands up when Harry averts his gaze to the floor. “I’m just going to go to my room to get ready and see if he’s off work yet,” Louis explains as he quickly walks past.

 

“Okay,” Harry says, sitting up to watch him leave. Harry stops him before he can make it out of the room. “Hey, Louis? Before when you asked about dinner… did you want us to-?”

 

“No, of course not,” Louis laughs easily. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that I don’t keep a lot of food around. I was just going to let you tag along with me and Niall so you didn’t starve, but you’ve got Liam, so you’ll be fine.”

 

It’s a lie, and from the look in Harry’s eyes he knows it.

 

“Do you cook?” Harry asks as he watches him.

 

“It’s not really my thing, but I try to sometimes,” he shrugs.

 

Harry’s eyes fall on the state of his kitchen, silently judging the chaos that has collected in there.

 

“Well, I’m pretty good at it…” he says. “I don’t know if you’re interested, but I could show you some simple recipes one day if you’re ever around when I feel like cooking,” he offers.

 

It’s not exactly what Louis would call fun, but watching Harry whip something up one day doesn’t sound quite as dull as he’d have initially thought. Louis doesn’t know whether that’s a good or bad sign for his current state of mind. Maybe he’s losing it.

 

“Yeah, sure. If I’m around,” he agrees. “That’d be kind of cool,” Louis says, and it concerns him because he really thinks it could be.

 

Louis goes to his room and calls Niall like he said, but instead of making dinner plans he convinces his friend to take him out and rescue him so he can remember what fun actually looks like.  He doesn’t even have to offer up much of an explanation as to why before Niall agrees whole-heartedly with, “Say no more, my friend.”

 

*

 

Louis can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed as he begins working on drink number four. He’s drunk; delightfully so in fact. The kind of drunk that brings everything to light that he’s too blind to notice when he’s sober. The kind of drunk that makes him recall every annoying thing he’s seen Harry do over the past couple of days and  recount all of it to Niall in vivid detail.

 

“He just so fucking organized,” Louis complains for about the third time. “Did I tell you he made perfectly folded, even piles of all of his clothes? They’re lying on the ground, and it still looks better than my entire closet.”

 

“Yeah, that’s fucking weird,” Niall agrees.

 

“And he reads too. Like, for fun. And at night.”

 

“Hey,” Niall frowns, instead of taking another swallow of his beer. “I read sometimes.”

 

Louis dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, but you probably read cool stuff, and you’d never go running at 5am in the bloody morning either. Niall, I swear to God, he gets up and goes for a run, comes back to get ready, and then goes to work, like running half an hour isn’t work enough,” he grimaces, “But I don’t hate his suit, though. His suit is nice.”

 

Niall raises an eyebrow after his little rant is over.

 

“You sure are focusing a lot on small shit. You’re sounding just about as uptight as him these days,” he mumbles.

 

Louis buries his face in his hands. “I am uptight, Ni. I need to get laid. I literally can’t remember the last time I had sex.”

 

“Uh, I’m pretty sure it was when we were in Vegas,” Niall says although he really didn’t need reminding.

 

Louis scoffs at him. “Yeah, I know, but I was so drunk that I don’t even remember it and neither does Harry, so it doesn’t even count.” Louis looks around the pub to see if anyone in the room strikes his fancy. He sees a pretty attractive man with a group of people in a booth near the back. “I think I’m going to go talk to that guy, over there.”

 

Niall looks over at where he’s pointing. “For what? To chat with him platonically?”

 

Platonic? Louis frowns at his friend, wondering what the fuck is wrong with him.

 

“There’s nothing platonic about what I want to do with him,” Louis replies. He chokes down the rest of his drink before hoping off his barstool. He’s confused when Niall firmly grasps his arm to keep him from going anywhere.

 

“You know you can’t just chat guys up anymore, Lou. You’re married, remember?”

 

Yeah, right. Louis laughs at his beautiful, idiotic best friend. Louis smacks a wet kiss to the side of his head because he’s just so funny.

 

“I’m sure the Misses won’t mind,” he winks, but Niall’s grip is as tight as ever. “Jesus, Ni, okay. Yes, we’re technically married, but only legally.” Louis explains. “It’s not like we’re in a real relationship or anything. Let me go,” he says, trying to pull away.

 

“You’re supposed to be trying to make this work. If you sleep with somebody else that’s infidelity. You can kiss your money goodbye, because Harry would automatically get it all.”

 

Louis feels the blood drain from his face. “What?”

 

Niall rolls his eyes at the horrified look on Louis’ face. “You can’t just cheat on your spouse and expect to get what you ask for when you get divorced, Louis. That’s like forfeiting your entire marriage.”

 

“B- But, we’re not having sex,” Louis argues.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Niall shrugs. “He’s your husband for the next six months, so if you’re not sleeping with him then I guess you’re out of the game for a little while, because you can’t sleep with anyone else.”

 

“For six fucking months?!” he shrieks. Louis feels lightheaded. He’s hasn’t gone that long without sex since he was a teenager. “I’m going to get carpal tunnel going that long with just my hand! Ni, what the hell am I supposed to do?”

 

Niall shrugs, completely unbothered by Louis’ sudden and very painful crash back down to Earth.

 

“I don’t know, mate. It sucks to be you, I guess,” Niall says as he finishes what’s left of his beer and stands up.

 

“Wait. Where are you going?” Louis whines, feeling absolutely gutted as he reclaims his seat at the bar. He wants to get laid, but not bad enough to throw away three million dollars. He can tough it out if he has to.

 

“I’m going to talk to that guy over there in the booth.”

 

“But you just said I couldn’t sleep with him. What’s the point in talking to him if that’s all I can do?”

 

“You’re the one with the husband, so that’s all you can do. I can flirt with whoever I want.”

 

He smiles at Louis and returns the favor by smacking a loud kiss to his head before walking over to chat up the man that he had made plans to talk to.

 

He can’t even be angry at Niall because he’s so fucking jealous, so he lives vicariously through his best friend as he laughs along with the man and his group of friends. Louis remembers when he used to make strangers laugh.

 

Harry is curled up on the sofa with his book again when Louis drags himself home. He greets Louis over the top of it when he walks in.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Hey,” Louis answers back. It must come off weird because Harry lowers his book to see him better.

 

“How was dinner with Niall?”

 

“Great,” he lies. “How was dinner with Liam?”

 

“It was good,” Harry replies, watching Louis very carefully. He frowns when Louis doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t feel like small talking with Harry at the moment. He just wants to go to sleep.

 

“I’m going to bed,” he announces as he heads towards his room, trying his best to avoid the way Harry is looking at him. He reaches for his door handle, his eyes closing just as Harry calls his name.

 

“Louis, are you alright?” he asks in a voice that makes Louis feel bad without him even trying. “Did something happen with Niall…Is it something I did?”

 

Louis doesn’t know why, but it bothers him for Harry to think he’s upset with him. It’s not Harry’s fault that he has gotten himself into this mess. He’s not mad at him. He’s mad at himself.

 

“No, you didn’t do anything. I just drank too much. I’m tired.”

 

“Oh, okay. Well, goodnight,” Harry tells him, seeming to accept that and offering him the smallest hint of a grin before returning to his book.

 

Louis doesn’t remember a lot about that night in Vegas, but in this moment he can see how Harry could’ve charmed him enough to win him over during the short time they had known each other. The man can be an absolute prick at times just like Louis, but he has only been here for a couple of days and Louis can already tell that he’s genuinely kind-hearted. It makes him feel better to know that if he’s trapped in this mess for the next six months, then at least it’s with someone who’s half-way decent.

 

~*~

 

The sofa Harry is sitting on is unpleasant. It’s too firm, he decides as he wiggles a bit to try and make it less rigid beneath him. It isn’t working. He sighs and resigns himself to being uncomfortable.

 

“So, Harry,” the court-appointed marriage counselor starts with a tight-lipped smile. “How’s it going?”

 

Harry frowns and blinks at the woman. “Don’t we need to wait for Louis?”

 

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” she says in a tone that suggests he better be there soon. “But I think this will be a good chance for us to get to know each other and see where you, personally, think your marriage is heading.”

 

“I think it’s heading back to court in six months to die a slow and painful death,” Harry answers scathingly.

 

The name on the door had said Georgia Martin, Ph.D. and Harry can see the therapist in her as she purses her lips and begins writing on her notepad. “So, you think the end of your marriage will be painful for you?” She asks, glancing up at him.

 

“What? No. I think the six months waiting to go back to court is going to be painful,” Harry clarifies. He can see why some people don’t like therapists. They read into freaking everything.

 

“That’s not what you said. You said the death of your marriage would be painful, not the journey to get there,” she’s not even looking at Harry as she says it, still scribbling on her pad of paper.

 

“Excuse me,” Harry says, trying to maintain his patience. “I should have been clearer, I guess. It doesn’t mean anything.”

 

“It always means something. People often mistake what they actually mean for a slip of the tongue. They may not even realize that it’s what they’ve actually been thinking at first.” When her eyes land on Harry he kind of wishes she would go back to looking at her paper.

 

“Yeah, well,” Harry shrugs, trying to look disinterested. Louis really should be there by now. Why the hell isn’t he??

 

“You don’t think you’ll be even a little sad about the end of your marriage?” Dr. Martin’s judgmental gaze slides over Harry’s face as he fidgets in his seat.

 

“I mean, I’ll be sorry that I didn’t get it right the first time. That I couldn’t find someone that actually wanted to be married to me. But… I’m not going to be upset that I get to separate from the person stuck with me that doesn’t.”

 

“Hmm,” the doctor hums as she writes more notes. She really is just a reproduction of the stereotypical vision of a therapist, isn’t she? “And what if he does?”

 

“What?” Harry asks, eyes scrunching at the corners as he wears his confusion on his face.

 

“What if Louis wants to be married to you?”

 

Harry laughs bitterly. “He doesn’t.”

 

“He might at the end of your six months. If you’re giving this marriage the chance that you’re supposed to.”

 

Before Harry can even open his mouth with an answer, there’s a frantic knock on the door.

 

“Excuse me,” Dr. Martin says as she rises from her chair to go answer the door. Harry just bets that chair is actually comfortable. It certainly looks cushy from where he’s sitting.

 

“I’m so sorry. I’m normally much more punctual,” Harry hears Louis’ voice as the man lies through his teeth to the therapist as she leads him into the room.

 

“It’s quite alright seeing as this is the first session. If it happens again though, I’ll have to report it to the judge and he may think it’s an unwillingness to cooperate,” the doctor tells Louis and gestures for him to take the seat next to Harry on her horrible sofa.

 

Louis glares as he flops down next to Harry.

 

Harry rolls his eyes. He hasn’t even done anything. It’s not his fault Louis is late.

 

“Why didn’t you remind me of the appointment, sweetheart?” Louis asks him through a smile of clenched teeth. Apparently Louis thinks it is though.

 

“What are you talking about?” Harry asks, hands flailing because seriously? “I left a note on the refrigerator.”

 

“Why would I be reading the refrigerator?” Louis gives up the pretense that there’s anything friendly between them as he turns to Harry with a scoff.

 

“Maybe because it’s the only thing I ever see you around besides your bed?” Harry asks, irritation bleeding into his tone. “Should I write it on your sheets next time?”

 

“This is good,” Dr. Martin butts in before Louis can retort. “You’re already fighting like a married couple.”

 

“Yeah, one on the way to divorce,” Louis mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

The doctor ignores that statement to address another. “One interesting thing I heard is Harry calling the bed ‘yours’, Louis. You’re not sharing?”

 

“We don’t even want to be married. Why would we share?” Harry asks.

 

“Because you’re supposed to be trying,” the doctor says, unimpressed.

 

Louis snorts. What’s that supposed to mean? Harry is trying, despite his better judgement. He just knows it’s a pointless effort.

 

“We are trying,” Harry says, eyes on Louis instead of the doctor but then he moves his gaze to her for the next bit. “You can’t expect our feelings to change in week.”

 

“Going into this expecting it to end in separation isn’t trying,” Dr. Martin says.

 

“Going into this expecting anything else isn’t realistic,” Louis mutters.

 

Harry sinks back into his seat, slumping down with the weight of Louis’ words. It’s weird. Saying it himself is one thing, but hearing Louis say it is something entirely worse. Maybe it’s because Harry says these things because he doesn’t want to be forced on someone who doesn’t want him and Louis says them because he specifically doesn’t want Harry. He wishes he had thicker skin. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much then. He decides then and there that it’s time to try and end this.

 

As soon as the session is over and Louis and Harry head in separate directions, Harry pulls out his phone and dials Liam.

 

“Liam,” Harry says before his friend can even get out a full greeting. “It’s time. We’re putting the plan into effect.”

 

~*~

 

Louis wakes with a start, his whole body rigid from the loud roaring sound he can hear coming from outside of his door. He’s lightheaded from how fast he moves to stand up, stumbling out of bed and tripping over a pile of clothes on the floor before wrenching open his door.

 

He sees Harry standing there shirtless in the kitchen, which is something that Louis would ordinarily be into, except for the fact that right now the arsehole is up at the crack of fucking dawn using a blender of all things. Louis didn’t even know he owned a blender.

 

“Good morning!” he happily chirps.

 

Louis stomps towards him, his knees and left ankle aching from when he fell over trying to open the door to his room. Louis ignores all of that to shout over the whirring noise that feels as if it’s piercing his skull.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Louis demands.

 

Harry smiles down at the empty blueberry container and banana peels strewn all over the counter before blinking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m making a smoothie!” he explains over the noise, pointing at the blender like Louis can’t see the stupid thing rattling away. “Do you want one?”

 

“NO! It’s barely even four o’clock in the morning! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Louis shouts.

 

Harry turns the machine off and blinks at Louis with confusion lining his features.

 

“Do you not like smoothies?”

 

“No,” he grits through his teeth. “I like sleeping, preferably while it’s still dark out!” he says, pointing out of the window at the moon. Harry glances at it too, but frowns like he doesn’t quite understand the concept.

 

“Oh. I’m sorry, Honey. Is it too early for you?”

 

His voice is far too sweet and obliging, even for a renowned morning person like Harry. Louis has no clue what he’s playing at, but he doesn’t like it, especially when Harry simply shrugs at his lack of reply, unplugs the blender. He pours his healthy breakfast into a cup and sticks a large straw in it, flashing Louis a bright smile before leaving him in the kitchen to stare after his half-naked body. 

 

It’s another two hours before Harry finally goes to work, however Louis spent so much time glaring after him before he left that he can’t even find the will to settle down and go back to sleep after he’s gone. He flops around in bed, tossing and turning in the early morning light wondering what he ever did to deserve such punishment from the gods. Their marriage counselor told him to try, Louis remembers bitterly. He’ll try alright; try to find the will to not smother Harry in his sleep tonight when he gets home.

 

He heads to his newly spotless kitchen that Harry cleaned up a few days ago in search of food once he has accepted that he’s not going back to sleep.

 

He grabs his box of cereal from the cabinet, but when he goes to grab his milk there’s only a small corner left. He curses himself for not getting more yesterday, his disappointed gaze falling on Harry’s suspicious carton of soy milk right beside it. Louis opens it, already frowning before he takes a whiff, but to his surprise it doesn’t smell half bad.

 

He shrugs as he pours it over his cereal, figuring he can stomach it for one morning until he can replace his own milk. He brings a spoonful to his mouth, expecting it to taste like stale piss, but the full flavor that zings over his tongue is rich and sweet and nothing at all how he thought soy milk would taste.

 

He eats his cereal in record speed, searching around his newly reorganized kitchen for a glass after he’s finished so he can wash it all down, but just when Louis goes to pour himself some more he thinks of Harry’s smug little face this morning with his stupid fruit smoothie. He turns the carton up to his lips and chugs it down until it’s only half full, placing it right back in the fridge where he found it when he’s done, and he doesn’t even feel a little bit bad about it.

 

The bathroom gets the same treatment when he takes a shower, dripping water all over the clean floor when he steps out of the tub without a towel and making sure to leave every bit of grime, toothpaste, and stubble on the sink that gathers there.

 

When Harry gets home later that evening, he steps through the door with a huge bag of Chinese take-away. He starts toeing off his shoes, but pauses when he notices Louis casually lounging on the sofa flipping through channels. His eyes travel from Louis’ bare chest to the thin pair of underwear covering his lower half, and Louis swears he can see a vein pulsing in his neck. Good.

 

“You’re watching tv,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “I thought it didn’t work.”

 

“Well, now it does,” Louis answers as Harry makes his way to the kitchen.

 

Louis hears him take a very audible deep breath. “Do you maybe want to move it to your room then, so you can watch it without me disturbing you?” he asks probably as nicely as he can manage as he prepares his food.

 

“Mmmm…nope, not really. I like it in here,” he answers brightly, now listening to Harry opening and closing cabinets to find the things that he needs. The kitchen is an absolute mess again from breakfast and Louis’ attempt at making lunch. Surprisingly, Harry says nothing about it. “So, sweetheart, what did you get us for dinner?”

 

“You mean, what did I get myself?” Harry says under his breath, but Louis still catches it. He’s just about to say something rude in retaliation when he hears the refrigerator open and all movement from the kitchen the stops. Louis smirks to himself when Harry calls out to him. “Did you drink some of my soy milk?”

 

“Yeah. Maybe? I don’t know. I don’t really remember,” he lies.

 

Louis can hear the undertone of disgust in his voice when he picks up the carton to inspect it. “Tell me you used a glass at least.”

 

Louis scoffs, sitting up with his chin held high. “Of course I did. What kind of a barbarian doesn’t use a glass for soy milk?” Louis questions him.

 

They have a bit of a stare off where Harry doesn’t look quite convinced that Louis isn’t the type of savage that he just described, staring at his soy milk like he has half a mind to throw it out. He rolls his eyes at him in the end and places the carton back in the fridge when Louis doesn’t even blink. Ha.

 

He comes to the sofa with his food in hand and doesn’t offer Louis a single bite of it as he wordlessly fits himself on the cushion.

 

“You could’ve asked me to move with words,” Louis grumbles.

 

“Well, you could go put on some pants and get off of my sofa, and yet here you are,” Harry mutters as he tucks into his food. He seems completely unbothered by the glare Louis aims in his direction, but Louis tastes sweet revenge when Harry goes to the bathroom later on.

 

Harry’s sharp gasp upon stepping through the door makes Louis sport a wicked grin as he pretends to be engrossed in the tv show he’s watching.

 

“What the hell did you do in here, shave your entire body?” Harry grimaces.

 

Louis probably could’ve tried a bit harder this morning to keep the bathroom as clean as Harry left it, but Harry also could’ve waited until after sunrise to use a fucking blender to make a smoothie, so really, he’s not sorry at all when he stifles a laugh and responds with, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

~*~

 

Harry narrows his eyes at the state of the bathroom that he so painstakingly cleaned just days ago. He knows what this means. This means war. And Harry has the perfect weapon in his arsenal.

 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials Liam, shutting the bathroom door behind him and doing his best to step over the mess Louis’ left behind to sit on the edge of the tub. He snatches up a towel on the way because he could tell from the door that the tub was still dripping and he puts down the terrycloth before sitting down on top of it.

 

“Hey mate,” Liam answers on the third ring. “How’re things at chez untidy?”

 

Harry snorts. “You’re being polite. Call it what it is: a disaster area. And I know we just started with the plan but I think it’s time to move on to phase two.”

 

“Why? What’s happened?” Liam asks, voice full of concern.

 

“I think he’s cottoned on to what I’m doing already. Either that or he’s just a horrible human being,” Harry sighs, shoulders slumping because he’s losing the faith that he can do this. Louis is so much better at being obnoxious than he is.

 

“Well, I could have told you that,” Liam states matter-of-factly and it does absolutely nothing to help Harry’s situation.

 

“Next time, do so before I marry the twat.” Harry runs a hand through his hair, fingers getting tangled halfway down. He needs a shower.

 

“I promise,” Liam says guiltily. Harry knows he feels bad for not looking out for him better when they were in Vegas. If he hadn’t let Niall get under his skin, and then into his pants, who knows what would have happened. He can’t really blame Liam though, if he hadn’t felt the need to spite his ex, Harry would never have even dragged the two of them to Vegas. “So, phase two? Tonight?”

 

“Yeah, give me an hour to clean up a little and then make the call.”

 

“Sure thing, I’ll let you know when to clear out.”

 

Harry stands from the tub and looks around at the bathroom again. He and Louis were never meant to be together. He tries to convince himself that he’s doing them both a favor if he goes through with this. “Hey, Liam?”

 

“Yeah, Haz?”

 

“… I’m not making a mistake, right? This could never actually work, me and Louis.”

 

“Harry, he’s an inconsiderate arse who doesn’t appreciate you. Even if it could work out, you deserve better.”

 

“Thanks, Li,” Harry says as he hangs up but he’s not so sure that what Liam has said is true. Sure, Louis’ been a dick almost the entire time Harry has been forced to live with him. Hell, almost the entire time Harry’s known him.  But he’s also seen moments where Louis was considerate, where it felt like he did appreciate Harry. Granted that was their wedding night before everything had become a blur but there’s been a time or two since where it felt like maybe Louis wasn’t considering this the worst thing to ever happen to him. Or maybe Harry’s just making excuses because he’s afraid of ending up alone. Harry shakes himself from his thoughts and goes to open the bathroom door, figuring he’ll shower after he cleans.

 

When the door swings open, Louis is standing on the other side.

 

“Were you eavesdropping?” Harry asks, appalled by Louis utter lack of decency.

 

“What are you talking about?” Louis looks at him funny. “I just need a wee. Or I could go in the kitchen sink if you’d like.”

 

“No!” Harry stops him with a hand to his shoulder when it looks like Louis is going to head to the kitchen. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

 

Louis smirks and bumps Harry’s shoulder without even a hint of an apology as he pushes past and Harry pulls the door closed feeling his heart settle down in his chest now that it appears Louis hasn’t overheard his conversation with Liam.

 

“Why do I get myself into these situations?” Harry murmurs as he makes his way to the kitchen to clean up yet another of Louis’ messes.

 

*

 

After about forty-five minutes of cleaning, Harry decides he’s done enough and goes for his shower. He doesn’t miss the smirk that Louis’ been wearing the whole time he sat on the sofa and let Harry do his dirty work. Just for that, Harry’s not going to let Louis know anything about tonight is different until he’s ready to leave.

 

He takes a quick shower and changes into an outfit that he used to wear when he went out with the explicit intention to pull. He’ll give Louis a glimpse of what he’s technically already got but can’t actually have.

 

Harry’s the one wearing the cocky smile when he comes out of the bathroom and sees the way Louis’ eyes trail over him hungrily, throat bobbing as he swallows hard at what he sees.

 

“Going somewhere?” Louis asks, rubbing at his thigh like he wants to be rubbing himself elsewhere but won’t allow himself. Harry feels just a bit smug at Louis’ voice being a hint higher than normal as he asks.

 

“Yeah, actually,” Harry answers, grabbing his keys and phone. “I hope you don’t mind but I invited a few people over and we don’t really have any snack food so, I’m going out to pick some up.”

 

 _He’s on his way_ , stares up at him from the screen of his phone and his heartbeat ratchets up a notch. Too late to turn back now. The message was sent ten minutes ago.

 

“What?!?” Louis shrieks from his spot on Harry’s sofa. Well, it’s Harry’s for the moment. “You’re just telling me this now?”

 

“Relax, you have a little time,” he says just before there’s a knock on the door. “Or not. Oops.”

 

Louis squawks in indignation and throws himself off the sofa, running into his room and slamming the door before Harry can get the front door open.

 

Harry’s still chuckling at the sight when he opens the front door to find his friend Zayn standing there.

 

“Hey, mate,” Zayn says with a crooked smile. “How’s married life?”

 

“Shut up,” Harry rolls his eyes and pulls Zayn into a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Zayn’s never really been one for sentimentality. That’s probably why he’s so good at his job. He’s a decoy on one of those sleazy talk shows where they put suspected cheaters in a room with someone who’s ridiculously attractive and try to catch them on tape. No one has ever turned Zayn down. No one. “He in there?” He asks quietly, looking over Harry’s shoulder into the apartment beyond.

 

“Yeah, he’s in his room changing.”

 

“Good. I’ve got three of my best guys coming in about ten minutes in case I’m not his type. It’ll give us some time to get cozy if I am before the crowd arrives. And then, hopefully, before the night is out you’ll have a cheating husband and plenty of eyewitnesses,” Zayn says, slapping Harry’s bicep as he passes, entering the flat.

 

“Great,” Harry says even though it doesn’t really feel all that great. There’s something squirmy in his stomach when he thinks about Zayn being successful. He tells himself it’s guilt at the fact that he’s setting Louis up. It has to be, right? “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a little while.”

 

Zayn nods at Harry’s back and gets comfy on the sofa as Harry forces himself to walk out the door.

 

~*~

 

Louis stumbles over his feet as he makes his way out of his bedroom, which only makes him more annoyed that Harry waited around until the last minute to tell him they were having people over.

 

He slams his bedroom door shut as a show of how unimpressed he is with Harry’s shit as he steps out. “You know, you could’ve let me know about this a bit earlier out of consideration. It’s fucking rude of you to-”

 

Louis freezes when he realizes he’s talking to the back of someone’s head that definitely does not belong to Harry.

 

“Oh,” Louis frowns, feeling like shit for yelling at this random man who’s just innocently sitting on his (Harry’s) sofa. Louis’ brain immediately thinks it’s Liam shown up early for the party, but his hair and skin are too dark for that to be right. The man shifts finally so that he’s looking directly at Louis and all of a sudden Louis can’t think anything anymore, because oh.

 

“Sorry,” the man grins, “But, what’s fucking rude?” he asks, and Louis has absolutely no idea.

 

This man, no, this God among men who is speaking to him is the single most attractive person that Louis has ever seen in his life. True, he also thought that about Harry the night that they met, but that’s all in the past now, because this man is on a whole other level of gorgeous. Louis’ eyes dart around his face, unable to decide which feature to focus on the longest with his dark hair and those deep, chocolate eyes that haven’t moved away from Louis’ this whole time.

 

Louis has never seen skin so smooth looking and rich and that fucking jawline of his is covered in just the right amount of stubble so that Louis wouldn’t even mind the guaranteed beard burn he’d get after a night of kissing him. God, what it must be like just to touch him.

 

The man watches Louis with interested eyes, a cute little tilt to his head when he speaks again. “Sorry, but I don’t think we’ve met. Who are you?”

 

Louis has trouble remembering at first. His mouth kind of just hanging open after watching this man’s adam’s apple bob up and down with his words. Louis has to clear his throat in order to get words out of his mouth. “I’m uh, I’m Louis. Who are you?”

 

“I’m Zayn. Sorry I’ve just kind of dropped in on you like this. I was supposed to meet my mate here. He told me to make myself comfortable. I hope I’m not being too much of a bother,” he says, already shrugging out of his leather jacket.

 

Louis practically runs across the room to take it from him.

 

“Here, I’ll take it,” he insists and right when he reaches for it, the tips of their fingers brush against one another. Louis’ dick finds that brief interaction way more exciting than it should when he all but gasps at Zayn’s touch.

 

Zayn has yet to pull his hand away after a few seconds, choosing instead to inch his fingers forward until they’re overlapping Louis’.

 

“You alright, love?” Zayn asks as Louis attempts to do important things like memorizing every contour of his lips and, you know, breathing correctly.

 

“Y-Yeah. Of course,” he swallows, feeling the way Zayn’s thumb lightly ghosts over his skin.

 

Louis takes a deep breath to steady himself, but when he tries to take the jacket to go hang it up per his original plan, Zayn’s grip moves to his wrist and tightens around it to stop him. “Wait, don’t go,” he whispers. “Keep me company while I wait?”

 

Louis is many things, but a poor host isn’t one of them, so he drops Zayn’s jacket across the back of the sofa and within seconds he’s climbing over it to sit next to him, his heart alive and pounding in his chest.

 

A little frown forms between Zayn’s eyebrows when he glances down at the amount of space separating them. Louis can feel the energy between them growing more charged when Zayn slides over so that their thighs are just a hair’s width apart from touching. The proximity sends a chill running up his leg and straight to his dick as Zayn seems to close in all around him.

 

He’s angled so closely that Louis feels as though Zayn is practically giving him permission to touch him. Like maybe if his fingers accidentally brushed along his jawline, or perhaps if Louis just so happened to feel faint that Zayn wouldn’t mind it if his lips broke Louis’ fall.

 

Right when Louis is about to test the waters and reach across Zayn’s lap for the remote his phone vibrates in his pocket.

 

“Who’s that?” Zayn asks, now seeming to be even closer to Louis than he was a few seconds ago. Louis wonders how that’s even possible when he already feels as though Zayn could be another layer of skin.

 

“It’s no one,” Louis rushes to say, dazedly watching on as Zayn lets out a quiet chuckle.

 

Louis’ phone vibrates again and Zayn bites down on his supple bottom lip. “It sure doesn’t sound like no one,” he whispers, with a slight edge of what could only be jealousy even though they hardly even know each other. Louis isn’t offended at all by his random possessiveness. Zayn can do whatever he pleases to Louis and he wouldn’t mind one bit.

 

Louis distractedly reaches for his phone, quickly telling Niall to fuck off and to stop texting him, and because Niall is a complete idiot, he texts him straightaway.

 

‘ _What the fuck? Why can’t I text you?’_

 

Zayn bats his long lashes at him, “I understand if you’re too busy to talk to me,” he says as Louis types out a message at record speed to inform Niall that he is the king of cock blocking and that they are no longer friends.

 

“No, no, no!” Louis shakes his head. “I’m not too busy. It’s just my friend. Don’t worry about him. Ignore my phone,” he begs.

 

It vibrates again and Louis tries his best to not look at it, but his curiosity gets the best of him. _‘Is it technically cock blocking if he’s already your husband though?’_

 

“Whoever it is, he sure seems worried about you,” Zayn says, suddenly so close that Louis can almost feel his words against his skin. “Maybe you’d rather talk to him for a while?”

 

_‘HOT. AS. FUCK. MAN. IN. MY. FLAT. STOP TEXTING ME.’_

 

Someone knocks at the door right when Louis hits send which is also the exact moment that Zayn decides to teasingly run his fingers along Louis’ cheek, causing him to shiver. He doesn’t want to leave Zayn’s side, so he moves at a glacial pace to go see which arsehole is interrupting them. He isn’t at all disappointed when he opens the door and three more men who are just as gorgeous as Zayn try to push through the door.

 

“We got a text from our friend to meet him here. This is the right place isn’t it?” One of them asks.

 

Louis nods, not knowing and definitely not caring if this is where they are supposed to be or not. The three of them notice Zayn on the sofa and he immediately waves them in. “Come on in, guys. Louis was just keeping me company, but I’m sure he doesn’t mind entertaining a few more people,” he smiles.

 

They all march in like ants in a line and in that moment Louis realizes that Zayn is brilliant. Beauty and brains combined into one glorious human being as he welcomes his friends to come sit with him. He pats the space between him and the one with sandy-colored hair and green eyes. Just seeing them together is enough to give Louis a semi.

 

Louis’ phone rings once, twice, and then a third time without Louis so much as glancing at it, his mind way too preoccupied with the buffet of men scattered around his flat. The one with blue eyes suggests that maybe he should answer it since whoever it is keeps calling. Louis only does it because the man’s cheekbones are so sinful.

 

All four pairs of gorgeous eyes watch him as he excuses himself to his bedroom to take the call. Louis shoves his hand down the front of his jeans as soon as the door closes behind him. He nearly cries from the relief he feels.

 

“You have exactly thirty seconds before I hang up on you to go have an orgy with four of the best-looking men I’ve ever laid eyes on. You have twenty-six seconds left.”

 

“What? What men are you talking about? Where’s Harry?” Niall asks.

 

“Twenty seconds now,” Louis informs him. “And I don’t know. He went to get food or a life or something. Who knows? Who cares? Fifteen seconds.”

 

“Wait a minute. You’re in the flat alone with four gorgeous men? Alone?!”

 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all night! Now do you see why I told you to fuck off?” Louis is lightly stroking himself now, he hadn’t meant to with Niall still on the phone, but considering what’s waiting for him outside the door, he needs something to help get him in the zone. “Ten seconds.”

 

“Louis, since when have hot men ever just shown up at your door out of nowhere?” Louis doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter if it’s never happened before, what’s important is that it's happening now. His brain doesn’t have time to consider things like probability at a time like this.

 

“Five seconds,” Louis warns, his thumb already hovering over the end button.

 

“Louis, it’s a fucking trap, you idiot. Get out of there!” Niall shouts down the phone at him.

 

Louis’ entire body freezes.

 

“What?” Louis shakes his head, “No. No it’s not! Why would you say something like that?”

 

“Because it’s true! Think about it. Harry leaves you in the flat alone and then four guys all of whom you’d fuck in a heartbeat just conveniently walk in and decide to stay? When does shit like that ever happen?”

 

“That happens sometimes,” Louis tries, his semi rapidly decreasing, much like his optimism about this situation the more Niall talks.

 

“Yeah, in porn,” Niall deadpans. “You need to get out of there now, Louis. Don’t you remember what I said about infidelity? Harry’s trying to set you up. If someone walks in there right now and catches you it’s all over.”

 

“Oh my God,” Louis groans. “That means Harry would win and get everything. I’m so fucking stupid!”

 

“I know,” Niall says not even disagreeing. “Now get out of the flat. Hurry up before someone sees you.”

 

Louis nods. Quickly pocketing his phone once Niall hangs up and running straight for the door. He doesn’t stop to grab his shoes, nor does he stop at the sound of the people lounging comfortably around his living room beseeching him to come entertain them. Louis ignores them, throwing the door open in order to escape, but when he steps into the corridor he slams right into Harry who blinks down at him, empty-handed and looking more than little surprised to see him out here.

 

“Louis? What are you doing?”

 

Louis scoffs, pushing himself out of Harry’s space he stumbled into by mistake. “You mean, why am I not inside with your ‘mates’ getting caught?” Louis spits. “You aren’t even holding anything. You didn’t go shopping for snacks, you were trying to set me up!”

 

“Louis, I didn’t- Well, I mean, I did, but-”

 

“But what, you felt bad about it because you realized it was a shitty thing to do?” Louis almost regrets saying it after Harry’s expression turns pained and remorseful.

 

“Kind of,” he shrugs with apologetic eyes that can’t quite seem to meet Louis’. He can’t believe Harry would stoop this low. Louis thought he was playing dirty by not using a towel after showering, but this?

 

“How stupid do you think I am? Did you really think I’d cheat on you that easily?”

 

Harry’s silence is answer enough, but he responds a few moments later with a new sharpness in his voice and gaze.

 

“You don’t care about me anyway,” Harry tells him. “You’ve probably never even been in a real relationship, so yeah, I thought you’d cheat on me that easily,” he spits back.

 

“I’ve been in relationships before,” Louis says, even though really, he hasn’t. He’s never been in anything even close to one. This situation with Harry is the realest thing he’s ever had, and even it’s falling apart before their eyes.

 

“A week-long sex partner doesn’t count,” Harry tells him, making Louis feel like about an inch tall because he’s pretty much hit the nail on the head. Louis usually lets comments like that roll right off of his back, because who is Harry to judge him, but tonight his words get under Louis’ skin.

 

“I might not get serious with every guy that I meet, but at least I’m not still pining over my ex-fiancé. Everyone can see from space that you’re still half in love with him.”

 

Louis knows it’s a low blow. He can see the way his words destroy the confidence visible on Harry’s face and turn it into something raw and painful. He feels awful as soon as he says it, but he refuses to take it back, because Harry brought this on himself.

 

~*~

 

Harry takes a deep breath, keeping his eyes to the floor. He’s been staring at the floor a lot lately.  “M’not,” he says moodily, knowing that it’s not entirely true. He’s not still in love with Isaac, really. It’s more like he’s in love with the idea of what he thought they had. Which is more than what he has with Louis. At least Isaac had actually liked him at one time.

 

Louis scoffs and Harry tears his eyes from the floor to frown at him. “I’m not,” he says more forcefully.

 

“Tell that to the ring you keep hidden in your socks,” Louis crosses his arms over his chest and arches a brow at Harry.

 

Harry’s frown deepens, body going tense at Louis’ statement. “You went through my things?”

 

Louis snorts and waves away his concern with a dismissive hand. “Like I care about your things enough to go through them. I dropped the remote in your box of unmentionables and found the ring box when I reached in to get it. It wasn’t on purpose.”

 

Harry can feel the tension leaking out of his body. He doesn’t even know why he’s relieved that Louis wasn’t looking through his stuff. He wouldn’t put it past the man to do it again now that he knows it would bother Harry.  “It’s not what you think.”

 

“Honestly, I don’t really care. Especially not now. I didn’t think you were capable of such underhandedness, Curly. I don’t know whether to be proud or offended,” Louis tells him with a smirk, looking back at the door to his flat. His smirk grows into a wicked smile as though he’s just had an evil thought and he looks to Harry with malice shining in the depths of his eyes. “I think I’m going to go with offended. And just so you know, Harry, two can play that game.”

 

Harry feels shivers at the promise in Louis’ tone and the way he moves toward Harry with a deadly grace. He’s still smirking as he runs a hand up the front of Harry’s shirt, leaving it resting over his heart. He rises on to the tips of his toes and tilts his head to the side, mouth a breath from Harry’s ear and Harry can feel the tip of his tongue tickle his lobe before he’s whispering lowly, “you have no idea what I’m capable of.”

 

Then, Louis turns and goes back inside his flat, leaving Harry feeling like he’s just been through a hurricane. He stands there blinking at the closed door for a few seconds before he shakes himself out of his stupor enough to realize that he’s hard in his jeans. Embarrassed at the effect that Louis still seems to have on him, he adjusts himself and, now that he knows there’s no danger of Louis actually cheating on him with Zayn (or Sandy, Josh, or Julian) he turns to go get those snacks he’d promised. Liam will be over in a bit with a few more people, no doubt, so they do actually need some food and booze. As he goes, he casts one last look over his shoulder at the door to Louis’ flat and wonders what will be waiting for him when he comes home.

 

*

 

So, apparently Harry’s not the only one who knows some stupidly attractive people. Of course, where Harry’s friends have been hitting on Louis all night, Louis’ have been completely ignoring Harry. Well, except when they’re treating him like a janitor.

 

“Oh fuck,” a gorgeous man with deep, brown eyes and dusty rose lips exclaims as he spills his drink all over the kitchen counter. “Sorry,” he says automatically, though the sincerity is missing from his apology. “You should probably clean that up.”

 

Harry gives the man a tight smile and grabs some paper towels, mopping up the mess with a sad sigh. He knows Louis probably told his friends to treat him this way but, even though he knows it shouldn’t, it still makes him feel inferior. How is Louis already so good at reading his insecurities?

 

“Hey,” Liam greets, appearing at Harry’s side. “How’s it going?”

 

“Better for Louis than for me it seems,” Harry answers, letting his eyes sweep the room until they find his husband. Louis is talking with Zayn, eyes crinkling with happiness as they chat. It appears that they are actually getting on well. Harry shakes his head at the sight. Of course, Louis would win over the people that were supposed to be on Harry’s side.

 

Liam’s eyes follow his and he nods, momentarily confirming Harry’s assessment. “Well, I wouldn’t worry. Zayn’s probably just still working on him for you.”

 

Harry chuckles bitterly, throwing out the sopping wet towels. “I doubt it. I’ve seen Zayn at work and it doesn’t look like that.”

 

“Maybe he’s taking a subtler approach,” Liam suggests, trying to keep Harry looking on the bright side.

 

“Well,” Harry reaches up into the cabinet to pull down a wine glass. His, not Louis’. The heathen didn’t have any of his own. “Even if he is, it won’t work. Louis knows what we’re up to.”

 

“I’ve seen men like him before. He’ll give in eventually,” Liam promises, taking a sip of the beer in his hand as Harry pulls out a desperately needed bottle of red wine from the refrigerator.

 

“Well, then it’s a good job he’s got friends that aren’t complete idiots,” Niall’s voice joins the conversation.

 

Harry barely gives the man a glance as he pours his wine but Liam turns to him, full attention drawn to the Irishman.

 

“That’s arguable,” Liam sneers.

 

“That’s arguable,” Niall mocks in a high, annoying tone of voice as he glares back.

 

“At least Harry’s friends aren’t overgrown children,” Liam retorts.

 

Harry looks between them and then glances over at the knife rack next to the sink. He stealthily takes a few steps over to stand in front of it and hide it from view, telling himself now is not the time to make a joke about ‘cutting the tension’.

 

Liam and Niall growl insults at each other for a couple more minutes, Harry watching with fascination until Louis decides to leave his new best friend and get himself another drink.

 

“Would you two just fuck again already?” He tosses at Liam and Niall, quickly grabbing another beer for himself and pulling Harry with him when he turns to leave.

 

Harry follows, confused but curious, as Louis leads him to his bedroom and closes the door behind them. “Ready to admit defeat?” He asks, brow arched, smile just visible as he takes a drink of his beer.

 

“Are you?” Harry returns, copying the look but it probably loses something from behind a wine glass.

 

“I’m having my ego boosted from every angle, why would I concede?” Louis laughs.

 

“All those compliments being tossed at you,” Harry answers, slinking closer. “They’re not genuine. Those people are only saying them to get in your pants because they’re working for me.”

 

“I know interest when I see it, love,” Louis grins, free hand flicking his fringe out of his eyes as they gleam at Harry with confidence. “Your friend, Zayn, is good. Professional even. But they’re not all fake.”

 

God, why does he have to be so pleasing to look at? Harry doesn’t doubt his words. He’s been pulled into Louis’ orbit himself, who is he to doubt Louis’ ability to pull others. Harry’s gaze falls from Louis’ eyes to his lips to the floor between them. He always feels like Louis has the upper hand. Maybe it is time to give in. Just give up and endure the rest of their six month sentence.

 

~*~

 

Louis prays that Harry can’t hear the way his heart is thudding in his chest. He hadn’t expected for Harry to slink this close him, or for the shape of his mouth and the smell of his cologne to be this enticing. All he had wanted to do when he dragged Harry into his room was brag about finally leveling the playing field. He has wanted to destroy Harry all night long. Louis wanted to get under his skin, and he still does as Harry watches him, it’s just that now Louis wants to ruin him in a completely different way as he swallows hard.

 

Louis wasn’t really sure if he had imagined the way Harry’s eyes seemed to linger on his lips earlier. Considering the living hell of sexual frustration that Louis has been going through lately, he figures it’s probably just wishful thinking on his part.

 

He finds himself wishing that it wasn’t just his imagination playing tricks on him when he takes a small step back from Harry, finally able to breathe again with the new space between them.

 

They can hear the party still in full swing on the opposite side of the door. The noise doesn’t bother Louis, but it seems to bring Harry’s attention back to what’s going on around them.

 

“We should probably go back. We have guests,” he whispers, his wine glass hanging uselessly at his side. He hasn’t even taken a sip of it in the last few minutes since he’s been looking at Louis this way. Louis didn’t even know they owned wine glasses.

 

Harry’s eyes dance over his face before dropping down to the floor again, and Louis is certain this time that Harry paused at his mouth.

 

“Yeah. We should go,” Louis agrees half-heartedly, wondering if the sudden urge he feels to kiss his husband is normal. It couldn’t possibly be.

 

Neither of them moves to leave, so Louis wonders if Harry is dealing with any of the same feelings as him. He thinks about maybe asking Harry where his head is at just to see if they’re even remotely on the same page, but Niall and Liam snatch the door open and steal his opportunity.

 

Liam takes one look at them and frowns at how close they’re standing, stepping into the room to grab hold of Harry’s arm.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Liam asks, staring pointedly at Louis as he pulls his friend away from him.

 

Niall comes to his defense in an instant, coming to stand next to him. “Louis wasn’t doing anything. Why don’t you ask Harry what the hell he’s doing? He’s the one who started this whole thing tonight.”

 

Harry’s expression turns hurt at being accused, but it quickly changes to offense when Niall scoffs over at him. He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something back, but before he can defend himself Liam gently takes him by the shoulders to direct him back to the party. “Don’t even waste your breath, Harry. Let the children argue amongst themselves,” Liam says as they both leave.

 

Niall scowls, watching them as they go. “You’re one to fucking talk, mate!” he shouts, looking like he has half a mind to follow Liam and shout some more. Louis grabs his arm before he can.

 

“Leave it, Ni,” he says, still looking after them.

 

He watches as Harry accidentally bumps into his mate, Stan, apologizing all over himself before he realizes that Stan isn’t even listening to him. He looks annoyed and frustrated, and fed-up, and Louis kind of feels bad for being the cause of it. Yeah, Harry played dirty and tried to trick him into having sex with a room full of gorgeous men, but that’s not really that bad of a setup all things considered. Maybe he should’ve told his friends to go a bit easier on Harry.

 

“If I murdered someone, would you help me get rid of the body?” Niall asks, his eyes still watching after Harry and his best friend.

 

Louis lets out a long sigh and takes a long overdue sip of his beer. “You’re not going to kill Liam, Ni.”

 

“I didn’t say Liam, I said someone,” he huffs.

 

Louis rolls his eyes, wondering why his and Harry’s best mates weren’t the ones to end up married in Vegas. They probably wouldn’t have fucked it up as much as he and Harry have. They’d probably actually be good at it.

 

“Why don’t you try being nice and actually talking to him instead of always making digs at each other?” Louis suggests just to see the way Niall scowls about it.

 

“Me, be nice to that- that-?” Niall’s forehead crinkles while trying to come up with a name awful enough.

 

“You mean that man that you have so must sexual tension with that it hurts my dick to be around the two of you,” Louis finishes for him.

 

“You have no room to talk. We just walked in on you and your husband eye-fucking in the doorway. That’s sexual tension,” Niall says before walking out to join the party. Louis doesn’t argue with him. He knows his friend is right, as annoying as that is to admit.

 

*

 

They have marriage counseling a few days later. All the counselor does is ask them how it’s going and they both start talking at full speed to let her know.

 

Louis tells her that it’s absolutely insane the way Harry is up at the crack of fucking dawn every day to mix shit up in a blender while Harry tells her that he’s being forced to live with a classless animal whom he suspects has been drinking his soy milk straight from the carton because he knows Harry hates it.

 

Louis’ first instinct is to be offended by the name calling, but he smirks instead. He didn’t think Harry had even noticed him taking big, random gulps of his expensive milk every day.

 

“Is that true, Louis? Are you doing things like that just to spite Harry?” the woman asks as she writes down everything they’re saying.

 

Louis crosses his arms over his chest at the accusation. Yes, he drinks Harry’s milk from time to time, but Harry cooks full meals without offering him any of it. “He does it too!” Louis argues. “He may look all sweet and innocent, but he’s an annoying prat at the best of times.”

 

“I’m the annoying one?” Harry turns to him sounding outraged. “You sit on my sofa in nothing but your underwear and you drip water all over the bathroom because you absolutely refuse to use a bloody towel!”

 

Their counselor zeroes in on Harry’s words. “Harry, you said ‘your’ sofa. Does that mean that the two of you still aren’t sleeping in the same bed?”

 

Louis expects for Harry to laugh or gag or do something to show this woman that them sharing a bed is completely ridiculous. He doesn’t do it.

 

He actually goes a bit quiet, his eyes losing the fire that had been there just a few seconds ago. “Uh…no, we’re not,” he says a few beats too late.

 

“And why do you think that is? Why haven’t you tried it?” she asks.

 

Louis blinks up at her in surprise when he realizes that she’s talking to him.

 

Louis goes just as quiet as his husband beside him as he thinks about it. He doesn’t really have an answer to that, so he just shrugs. She asks Harry the same question. He doesn’t do much better coming up with a good response, his eyes falling to his knees rather than meeting anyone else’s gaze.

 

The woman doesn’t push it, probably realizing that she’s struck a particularly sensitive nerve with her questioning. She stops writing after a moment, meeting their eyes with an encouraging smile. “Well, I’d say you’re sounding more like a true married couple the more I hear from you two,” Louis doesn’t know why her words don’t sound as awful as they should. “You’re making progress together, but I think that last question is something you both need to think about until next time. Maybe by then you’ll have an answer.”

 

~*~

 

Harry thinks about what their counselor said the whole drive home. Why hasn’t he slept in the same bed with Louis? Maybe because Louis’ a dick? Because he doesn’t want Harry in his bed? Because he’s so freaking hot sometimes that Harry wouldn’t be able to keep his hands to himself? Shit. He wasn’t quite ready to admit that to himself.

 

He has a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel when he parks his car back at the flat. He’s only grateful that Louis wasn’t riding with him when he had that little revelation.

 

Harry walks slowly up the stairs to the flat and unlocks the door with too many thoughts clouding his head. He is not that weak. He could totally sleep next to Louis and not let it become anything more than perhaps the first decent night of sleep he’s had since he was forced to move into the place. He could. He’s convinced himself that they should try it by the time Louis gets home.

 

“You could have given me a ride,” Louis grumbles, slamming the door and mumbling about having to take the bus as he goes straight to the fridge and pointedly pulls out Harry’s milk to slurp straight from the carton. He stares at Harry as he does it, daring him to say something.

 

Harry’s eyes get caught on the line of Louis’ throat as he swallows and he forces himself to tear them away, looking down at the disheveled sofa he’s made his sanctuary instead and saying nothing about Louis’ blatant thievery.

 

Once Louis’ done drinking Harry’s milk, he stomps over to the sofa and throws himself down on it, not caring that he’s sitting half on top of his husband. He throws his legs up into Harry’s lap, pressing his back against the arm of the sofa and picks up the remote, turning on the television.

 

Again, Harry says nothing and lets it happen, resting his arms over Louis’ shins as he stares at the television, not really seeing what’s on.

 

After a few minutes of silence, Louis huffs in annoyance and mutes the television.

 

“Alright, Harold,” he says, pulling his legs out of Harry’s lap. “What’s your problem? You’re just going to let me get away with doing whatever I want because you feel guilty about making me take the bus?”

 

Harry shakes his head, mouth floundering in confusion. “No, that’s not what I’m… You have a problem with me letting you do what you want?”

 

“Well, yeah,” Louis nods, looking at Harry like he’s the weird one. “I wasn’t aware I married a doormat.”

 

Harry scoffs, “I wasn’t aware you cared.”

 

“Just tell me what’s wrong,” Louis sighs heavily, training his eyes on the silent television.

 

Harry runs his fingers through his hair in exasperation and it might be his imagination but he thinks he sees Louis watching from the corner of his eye. He takes a breath and lets his thoughts spill out. Because Louis asked for it.

 

“I think— I think we should try it. What the counselor suggested, sleeping in the same bed. To prove to her that we can and that it’s not that big a deal.”

 

Louis turns to him, studying his face for a second before his mouth erupts into an impish grin. “Yeah, right. You don’t care what she said. You just want in my bed, admit it.”

 

Harry blinks at Louis. “You caught me,” he deadpans. “Fuck marriage counseling.  I just want to sleep on the sheets you haven’t washed in a month and roll around in your stench. Please, Louis. It would be a dream come true.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes and unmutes the television. “Make me dinner and I’ll think about it.”

 

When Harry doesn’t immediately get up to do Louis’ bidding, the other man slides his legs back into Harry’s lap.

 

It feels nice, domestic, sitting there with his husband and watching the t.v. together. Harry melts into the feeling for an hour or so until the program goes off. And then decides he wants more of it, wants to see how long he can make it last before they go back to being at each other’s throats. So he gets up, moving swiftly to the kitchen to see what he can come up with for dinner. And when he cooks it, he cooks two portions.

 

Harry can feel Louis’ eyes on his back as he goes through the motions of making a meal, can see the surprise in his eyes when Harry brings him a plate full of food.

 

Louis takes the plate and scoots over. Harry doesn’t know if he’s making more room intentionally or not, but Harry appreciates it nonetheless.

 

He can hear the moan that Louis tries to suppress with the first bite of his food and hides a proud smile behind his fork as he watches Louis scarf down his food like he hasn’t eaten in a week.

 

Louis glances his way and catches him watching. “This doesn’t mean that I like you.”

 

Harry bites down on a smile and nods very seriously. “Noted.”

 

“Good,” Louis says going back to ignoring him in favor of cleaning his plate.

 

When they finish eating, Louis surprises Harry by actually taking his dirty plate to the kitchen instead of just leaving it on the coffee table like he usually does when he makes his own food. Harry doesn’t know what to make of the sudden change in behavior but he’s certainly not going to complain.

 

They watch a little more television in companionable silence but it’s only another hour or so before Louis’ yawning into his hand.

 

“I think I’m going to call it a night, Curly,” he announces when he’s finished his episode of EastEnders.

 

Harry nods, turning off the television because he’s tired too.

 

Louis rises from the sofa and walks to his room but stops at the door, turning back to Harry. “Well? Are you coming or not?”

 

“Oh,” Harry breathes. Even though he held up his end of the bargain, that’s not why he was doing it. So, he didn’t really expect Louis to let him sleep in his room. “Yeah.”

 

He follows Louis into the bedroom and doesn’t really want to think about the way his heart’s suddenly thundering in his chest. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s an experiment. At least, that’s what he repeats to himself as his husband strips off, getting ready for bed.

 

~*~

 

He’s in way over his head, Louis realizes, keeping his back to his husband as he continues to undress and pretty much freak the fuck out because he can hear Harry shedding his clothes over by the bed.

 

Their marriage counselor merely told them to think about why they haven’t been sleeping together; she was very clear on the think part of all of this. She told them to get back to her when they have an answer for why they haven’t tried it. Apparently, Harry had already gone through the motions of doing what their counselor asked by the time Louis had gotten home, because he was already up for giving it a genuine try. Louis hadn’t been opposed per se, but he had expected to have more time to process and decide if innocently sleeping next to Harry was something he’d be able to do. Probably not considering the way his brain is all jumbled just from having the man in his room.

 

He glances over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his husband folding his clothes and placing them on top of the dresser for the night, noticing his strong legs and the smooth muscular plane of his back. Louis shamelessly checks Harry out all of the time without apology. He does it mostly to get on his nerves whenever he’s being annoying or just looks particularly good, however this time when Harry turns to face him Louis nearly snaps his neck from how quickly he looks away.

 

Louis hadn’t expected any of this to happen tonight. He feels like it’s all moving too fast with the shared bed and Harry in nothing but a tiny pair of underwear. And it’s not even like they’re doing something crazy or unheard of; they’re just going to sleep in the same bed, but that simple knowledge has Louis’ heart doing double-time.

 

“Which side do you want?” Harry asks him.

 

Louis finally faces him, his gaze falling to where Harry’s lightly scratching at his stomach and looking a bit unsure, and like a fool, Louis follows every groove and line of Harry’s abs with his eyes. He shouldn’t have allowed himself to do that, because when he finally meets Harry’s gaze again he doesn’t even remember what he had asked.

 

“Uh- Either side is fine with me,” Louis says when he finally remembers why Harry is looking at him so expectantly.

 

Harry climbs in on the right since he’s already there. He pulls the covers up over him and settles in while Louis just stands there at the foot of the bed watching his every move.

 

He’s making a bigger deal out of this than is really necessary. He has slept in the same bed with Harry before. They even had sex the night they got married; neither of them can actually remember it, but still, the fact that it happened has to count for something, doesn’t it?

 

Louis gets in on the left, telling himself that this is nothing as he slides down into the mattress. He turns off the lamp on the table next to him and floods the room with darkness so that he can’t see the way Harry looks lying next to him.

 

Men have slept over at Louis’ before. It doesn’t happen very often, and when it does he’s usually too wasted to even feel the dip of someone else’s weight on the bed. He wishes he were drunk right now. Then he wouldn’t have to hear the slow drag of every breath Harry takes or feel the way the bed is already several degrees warmer than usual when it’s just Louis sleeping in it.

 

Harry shifts around until he’s in a more comfortable position, his knees bent towards Louis with one arm tucked up under his pillow. He looks so soft and relaxed that Louis can feel his own body screaming for him to move from the rigid position he’s lying in on his back so that he can get comfortable too.

 

Louis flips onto his side and faces Harry with his knees tucked up against him. His eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough to be able to make out the soft curves and lines of Harry’s face. He sucks in a quiet breath when he sees that Harry is quietly watching him too.

 

“Is this alright? Do you have enough room on your side?” Harry asks.

 

There’s an entire ocean’s worth of space between them, but Louis still feels the weight of Harry’s pull from the other side of it.

 

“I’m good. Plenty of room,” Louis answers. “How about you? Do you need anything? I can take off the top blanket if it gets too warm.”

 

Harry nuzzles his face against his pillow. “I’m alright. I don’t need anything,” he yawns, “Just want to sleep.”

 

Harry shuts his eyes for good, his full lips slightly parted as he drifts off. Louis flips over to his other side so that he’s not openly staring at Harry while he sleeps.

 

He settles down again in a new spot and tries to follow suit behind his husband. Drowsiness is just beginning to pull at him when Harry’s soft voice floats across the space between them.

 

“Good night, Louis.”

 

Louis stills, unsure of the sudden warm pressure behind his ribcage that sends his heart pitter-pattering against his chest.

 

“Good night,” he whispers back.

 

*

 

Louis jerks himself awake the next morning when the sound of his phone ringing cuts through the air. He sits up to grab it from the bedside table and squints at the name illuminated on the screen. He groans at his mother’s picture smiling back at him and then at the time mockingly displayed in the right-hand corner. He flings his phone over his shoulder somewhere, already set on going back to sleep when he hears Harry whimper. And, oh yeah. Harry slept in here last night.

 

“Why are you throwing things?” Harry whines. “Answer the phone already,” he begs him. Louis doesn’t have to tell Harry that he has no intention what-so-ever of answering his mother because she chooses that moment to give up and end the call. “Thank God,” Harry says, frowning when Louis places an icy foot against his shin to shut him up.

 

“Your stupid alarm wakes me up every morning. Nice face by the way,” Louis tells him when Harry dislodges his hand from between his face and the pillow to reveal a deeply imprinted pattern of the rings on his right hand.

 

“Damn it,” Harry frowns when he feels over the angry, red indentions on his skin. “I always forget to take them off at night.”

 

“I hope you never slept on the one hidden away in your socks. That thing is fucking massive,” Louis smirks, imagining the imprint that a rock the size of Harry’s engagement ring to Isaac would make on his face. The way Harry’s eyebrows crease in the middle makes Louis rethink teasing him any more about it.

 

“I’ve been meaning to get rid of it,” he says after a while.

 

Louis doesn’t blame him. If some guy he was going to propose to was cheating on him, Louis would get rid of the ring before he did anything else. It’s not like there’s any sense in keeping it if no one’s going to be wearing it. He doesn’t understand how Harry has been able to keep it this long, but he doesn’t push Harry on it, knowing it’ll only start a fight. They’re getting along for the most part. Louis doesn’t want to ruin it.

 

Harry looks thankful for the subject drop, stretching out and then curling his knees back up to his chest as his mouth stretches in a wide yawn.

 

“So, who was that calling a minute ago? I thought all of your friends slept until noon,” he grins.

 

“Ha ha. Very funny,” Louis deadpans. Harry preens with his dimples popping out like he thought his joke was very funny indeed. “And it wasn’t one of my friends. It was no one,” Louis tells him. Harry glances down at the phone still lying face up with a missed notification from his mother.

 

“Your mother is no one?” Harry asks after he reads it. “Why don’t you want to talk to her?”

 

“I did,” Louis says, shaking his head because he didn’t mean to tell him that. “I mean, I do. I will… it’s just-” It’s just that he hasn’t spoken to her or his step-father since the day he got fired. They already aren’t impressed with him and some of the choices he’s made in his life, and the fact that they’ve gone this long without hearing from him is only making it worse. He would answer her, he just doesn’t know what the hell he would say.

 

Harry’s eyes are sad as he watches him, but he doesn’t push it, showing Louis the same courtesy that he received earlier by dropping it.

 

“Got any big plans for today?” Louis asks to break the silence.

 

“I don’t know yet. I haven’t hung out with Liam very much this week. I’ll probably go see him.”

 

“Oh?” Louis hums. “You know, you two sure spend a lot of time together. Should I be worried?” Louis asks, like the suspicious wife did in the movie he saw a few days ago. Harry rolls his eyes at him, pulling his pillow from beneath him to throw it over Louis’ smirking face.

 

“Only if I should be worried about you and Niall. You two are just as close,” Harry tells him.

 

“Niall is my soul mate. I love him dearly, but I don’t want anything to do with his penis.”

 

“What a relief,” Harry says flatly before sitting up and getting out of the bed. He still looks as good as he did the night before, but Louis forces himself not to stare. “I’m going to go get dressed. I guess I’ll see you later?”

 

Louis nods from where he’s still tucked between the sheets, pretending to scroll through his phone so that he doesn’t watch the way Harry’s cute little arse cheeks bounce when he walks.

 

“Yeah. See you later,” Louis echoes.

 

Louis turns over into his pillow when he’s gone and lets out a feeble whimper. This whole mess with his family is really starting to get to him and he’s honestly just so horny at this point that even the smell of Harry on his sheets has him ready to cry from how long it’s been.

 

Their therapist has a funny way of making Louis think and reflect on things, and to top it all off it’s become quite evident that he is very attracted to his husband, which doesn’t sound like it should be an issue, but the erection that he’s currently trying to ignore would beg to differ.

 

He needs to get out of his flat. He needs a good distraction so that he’s not thinking about all of this shit that he just cannot deal with right now. He needs his best mate, so Louis sends him a quick text to let him know that he’s on the way.

 

~*~

 

“What?” Liam practically yells when Harry tells him how he spent his night over breakfast. “You what?”

 

“It was… nice, actually,” Harry tells him instead of repeating himself. He remembers the way Louis had watched him, asking if he needed anything. He’d had such an urge to reach out, it had been a struggle to keep his hands to himself. He hopes Louis couldn’t tell.  “He was nice, for the first time in a while. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing.”

 

Liam scoffs from his seat across from Harry in their booth. “This is the worst thing,” he complains, running a hand over his hair. “Harry, you can’t be falling for your husband! That’ll ruin everything.”

 

Harry shakes his head at Liam’s outburst, face drawn in confusion. “What are you talking about? We spent one night being civil to each other. I’m not falling for Louis. And even if I was, how could that possibly make the situation any worse?”

 

Liam leans closer, dropping his voice when he sees people turning to look at them, realizing how loud they’ve gotten. “What’s going to happen if you fall in love with him and he doesn’t feel the same, Harry? What happens when he still wants the annulment and all the money that comes with it?”

 

Harry slumps back in his seat, eyes down on his barely touched plate. “He can have the money. I never really wanted it anyway,” Harry mutters to his food, with a shrug of one shoulder. The admission is followed by a heavy sigh because Liam is right, it would be just like Harry to fall for a man that will never want him.

 

“Then let him have the money,” Liam advises solemnly, “but don’t let him break your heart as well.” He reaches across the table and brings a meaty hand down onto Harry’s shoulder. “I’m only looking out for you, mate.”

 

Harry nods, glancing up at Liam’s concerned face. “I know.” Harry knows it’s not entirely logical but it feels a bit like even his best friend thinks he’s unlovable and he can’t shake off the thought for the rest of the morning. It drives itself deep into his skin and settles there, clawing at the back of his mind even when he’s back at home cooking lunch for Louis. Even when Louis washes the dishes in thanks. Even when he’s invited to Louis’s bed again that night. He can’t stop thinking about how very temporary this stalemate they’ve worked up to likely is. And Harry hates this feeling, like nothing he does is going to be good enough. He had the constant thrum of it pulsing in his veins when he was with Isaac, and Daniel before him. That’s why he’d never let himself be truly honest with either of them. But what makes it worse is that he’s been nothing but himself with Louis, and that’s not good enough either, just as he’s always feared. So, as he watches Louis fall asleep first, he makes a decision. He’s going to do absolutely everything in his power to make this work.

 

*

 

Harry genuinely thinks he’s making things better when he steals Louis’ phone a few days later and copies his mother’s number into his phone.

 

He dodges the pillow Louis tries to beat him with when his alarm goes off at 4:30 am and turns it off as quickly as possible to placate his spouse. Louis settles back into sleep pretty easily and Harry gets up to get dressed for his usual morning run, pausing when he spies Louis’ phone on his bedside table. He finishes pulling on his socks and trainers and slowly, quietly traipses over to lift Louis’ phone, finding the number easily in Louis’ call log. Glancing at his husband, he copies the number into his phone and deposits his earphones in his ears, starting his running playlist as he jogs out to stretch in the living room. 

 

He thinks about it the entire time he’s running, even with Alessia Cara singing in his ears about running and being ‘partners in crime’. It’s something that throbs in his shins and moves with the swing of his arms as he pounds the pavement, the reminder that there’s something keeping Louis separate from his family. He supposes it could be that Louis’ step-dad fired him but that was months ago now, Louis should be over that and ready to move on. Maybe he just needs a push in the right direction.

 

When he gets home to take his shower, Louis is still asleep and Harry tries not to think of the image of his unkempt head buried in his pillow as cute. He showers quickly and goes back out to the living room to get his clothes because, while he may be sleeping in Louis’ bed lately, they haven’t made the leap to actually storing Harry’s things in there. He doesn’t know if they ever will and the thought eats at him until he shuts it out as he cooks himself some eggs for breakfast. He makes extra and stores them in the fridge for Louis. They won’t be as good as they would be fresh but somehow he doesn’t think Louis would appreciate being woken up now to enjoy them, no matter how good they are.

 

He checks his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he finishes up getting ready for work, fussing over his hair much longer than he normally would. He shakes his head at himself after a few minutes because even if he actually goes through with calling Louis’ mother, it’s not like his appearance will have any bearing on her first impression of him. He still takes another minute to get his curls to cooperate the way he wants them to despite the fact that he knows it’s ridiculous and then forces himself to leave for work.

 

He calls Louis’ mother on his lunch-break, cringing when he realizes that Louis hasn’t told them about getting married as his mother shrieks in Harry’s ear. And he knows he’s made a horrible mistake even as he invites Louis’ parents to dinner at Louis’ flat.

 

*

 

It’s nerve wracking waiting for Louis to get home.

 

Harry charms Louis’ parents to the absolute best of his ability but he’s got the feeling that no matter how clean Harry’s made the apartment, or how good the dinner he’s currently making turns out, Louis is the one that’s going to get an earful when he arrives.

 

As soon as Harry hears Louis’ key in the lock, he rushes to the door.

 

“Louis,” Harry says, pulling it open quickly and trying to convey his apology before Louis can see what he’s done and come to his own, incorrect, conclusions. “I didn’t know—”

 

“Louis!” His mother chirps, pushing her way past Harry to envelope her son in her arms even as her tone carries a note of reprimand.

 

“Mum!” Louis greets in surprise, returning her embrace. He turns his wide eyes to look at Harry, the message in them a very clear _what the hell is going on here_ that Harry isn’t sure how to answer without landing himself in worse trouble than he’s already in. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Your husband,” she clears her throat with a glare, “invited us for dinner. How could you not tell us you’d gotten married?!?”

 

Louis freezes. Slowly, he turns to his husband and Harry can definitely see the family resemblance as Louis glares at him. “Sweetie,” he says, grasping Harry’s elbow a bit painfully. “May I speak to you for a second?”

 

“You know, I think I should—,” Harry tries to escape to the kitchen, motioning to the oven where his chicken is baking but fails as Louis starts dragging him to the bedroom.

 

“Excuse us for a second, Mum,” he says with a painted on smile that drops from his face the second the door shuts behind Harry. “What the fuck did I do to deserve you calling my fucking parents?”

 

Harry rubs miserably at his forehead as he tries to will away his oncoming headache. “Well, how was I supposed to know you hadn’t told them you’d gotten married?”

 

Louis’ jaw drops open for a split second before he’s giving Harry a proper dressing down. “Oh, I’m sorry. Tell me, Harry. Have you told your parents about our fucking sham of a marriage? Because if you have, then when do I get to meet them?”

 

Harry flinches at Louis’ harsh tone. It doesn’t help that Louis is one hundred percent correct in his assumptions. Harry hasn’t told anyone either but he guesses he just didn’t think it would matter to Louis as much, knowing that their marriage was nothing to write home about.

 

“I’m sorry,” Harry tries to genuinely apologize but Louis is having none of it.

 

“Sure you are,” He says, already turning away from Harry. He turns back with his hand on the doorknob. “In case it wasn’t clear, you can get comfortable on the sofa again tonight.”

 

Harry stands alone in the room for a few minutes after Louis slams the door on his exit. He sighs, regretting pretty much everything right now. It looks like their hard-won truce is over because before Louis turned away from him, Harry was pretty sure he saw the light of vengeance in his husband’s eyes.

 

So much for making it work.

 

~*~

 

They’ve been sitting here with his parents for over twenty minutes and Louis still cannot believe that Harry fucking did this. Louis is so thankful that no can see the restless way his knee is bouncing beneath the table that no one has actually seen the surface of in months. Louis’ junk and clutter has been piled on top of it for almost as long as the table has been there in the flat, but Harry seems to have pulled out all the stops tonight and has taken the time to remove it all from the tabletop and even polished the thing. He cleaned the flat and set posh dinner places for the four of them too, Louis notices again as he glares down at the festively folded napkin resting beside his wine glass rather than squeezing the life out of Harry’s right hand like he really wants to.

 

His mother’s eyes follow their every move, eventually falling to his and Harry’s linked hands on top of the table. She doesn’t gush about how cute they are and she doesn’t comment on the fact that neither of them seem to be oozing any of that annoying as fuck newlywed glow that people always go on and on about. Things have been tense from the moment Louis walked through the door, and he just really, really wishes that Harry hadn’t done this.

 

His mother takes a long sip of her wine as she zeroes in on her son sitting opposite her. She doesn’t look any happier about all of this than when Louis first got home. That makes two of them.

 

“So, Louis…I’d ask what you’ve been up to for all these months, but I guess your husband calling me pretty much answers that question for us,” Jay says with a slightly bitter tone. Her gaze is soft when it lands on Harry, but then darkens when she addresses her son again. “I would really love to hear the story of how I managed to gain a son-in-law since I wasn’t even invited to see you two get married,” she says, her head tilted in silent expectance as she waits for the sweeping tale of their romance to begin.

 

Louis’ mouth feels as dry as the Vegas desert that brought him and Harry together all those months ago. His grip involuntarily tightens around his husband’s fingers as his mind races to think of a blatant lie to tell his parents about how one day he was storming out of Dan’s office and then next he was someone’s spouse.

 

His mother and step-father are watching him carefully like they know something is off, but thankfully, they can’t quite figure out what it is. Louis prays that they never will.

 

He tries to sound as normal as possible, his voice taking on what he hopes passes for a casual tone as he grins at their guests. “Uh…Harry and I met one night while we were out with our friends. We dated for a little while before we even started thinking about getting married, and, well yeah,” Louis loosely explains.

 

“How long’s ‘a little while’?” Dan asks under his breath. His step-father’s voice is laden with judgment as he stares Louis down for an answer. It feels like a trap. It doesn’t matter if he says they were together for two weeks or two years, either way it’s going to sound shady because he kept it secret.

 

“Lou, you know we were together for just a couple of months or so,” Harry grins, gallantly rushing in to save him. “He always tells it all wrong,” Harry chuckles at his parents. “I was out celebrating my birthday the night that we met and Louis was just out having a good time with some mates. We liked each other from the start, and after that first night we were inseparable.” And yeah, they became inseparable alright. So bloody inseparable that they couldn’t even get the judge to annul their fucking marriage. “When Louis proposed, we knew things were moving quite fast, but everything felt right on track,” Harry smiles. “It’s been great so far.”

 

His parents look between them like they’re not quite sure of the story that Harry’s trying to feed them.

 

“Hmph. So this was all Louis’ bright idea, then?” Dan asks after listening to that incredibly vague and completely fabricated account of their relationship. He doesn’t look at all impressed by this news. His mother doesn’t either when she helpfully reminds the table that this is all quite shocking considering Louis has never even mentioned dating somebody seriously let alone wanting to propose.

 

Their skepticism and underlying disappointment in him is obvious and Louis feels like a failure just sitting before them. His parents never seem to be satisfied with him whether he’s fucking up or not. It’s like no matter what he does they always think he could do better; be better. He’s now a married man with this wonderful, gorgeous husband at his side who is trying his absolute best to win them over despite their resistance, and yet somehow they still aren’t impressed.

 

Louis knew things would go this way if they ever found out. This is exactly why he hasn’t been in touch with them all this time. He has nothing to say in his own defense or in Harry’s for that matter, but it turns out that his husband does when he decides to speak up.

 

“It’s true that Louis wasn’t seeing anybody seriously or long-term when we met, but I had just recently come out of a serious relationship that landed me on my face out of nowhere and Louis never held that against me.” Harry looks at his parents with the same open, agreeable expression that he’s been wearing all night even though the cadence of his words sounds a lot like ‘fuck you.’ “And also, our engagement may have been short, yeah, but it was still amazing. It all happened so fast that it’s a bit of a blur looking back on it, but I just remember feeling so happy in that moment that I knew what we were doing was the right thing.”

 

Louis is stunned into silence as he picks through the double meanings of Harry’s little speech. It all happened so quickly because they were drunk, and their engagement is such a big blur in their minds because again, they were fucking shitfaced, but the last thing that Harry said about being happy…that one resonates with him for a moment. Louis has never admitted it, not even to Niall, but happiness is definitely something that he recalls feeling from that night, despite his extreme level of intoxication.

 

Dan and Jay look surprised at Harry’s words, spoken with so much conviction and pride that even Louis almost believes their story. His parents lock eyes over the table for a beat, but say nothing else about it as Jay thankfully changes the subject.

 

Harry gets up to check the oven when a timer dings in the kitchen. Jay and Dan have started up a new conversation about the twins’ birthday coming up soon when Harry returns with the food. He briefly meets Louis’ eyes as he serves everyone and then reclaims his seat.

 

Louis still can’t believe that Harry invited his parents to dinner like they’re all best fucking friends, but he also can’t believe how much he’s trying to save this night and get his parents to ease up on him.

 

He contemplates not doing it at first, but Louis takes his hand again once they’ve finished eating and the family stories are beginning to roll out. Louis notices that he’s not fantasizing about breaking his delicate little bones like he had been at the beginning of the night. He wonders why that is, but doesn’t question it too much.

 

It’s late by the time they walk his parents to the door. Their marriage doesn’t exactly get a big seal approval from either of them, but his parents do wrap him and Harry in a tight embrace and make them promise to call more often as they leave. Louis guesses that’s better than nothing.

 

Louis slumps against the door when they’re finally gone, exhausted from spinning lies all night about his and Harry’s whirlwind romance.

 

Harry’s eyes dart around the room now that they’re alone. His features still lined with the wordless apology that he’s been trying to communicate to Louis all evening.

 

“Louis…” he begins, sounding contrite, but Louis waves him off before he can even finish. Harry winces like he just knows he’s about to get an earful, but Louis finds that he can’t actually stay mad at the idiot for long.

 

He would have very much preferred to keep his parents in the dark about this whole thing, but it’s not like there’s anything to be done about it now that they know. They were probably going to find out about Harry sooner or later from mutual friends or family. It’s best that it happened tonight where he and Harry had some semblance of control over the matter.

 

Louis can hardly believe the words are coming out of his mouth when he pushes away from the door with, “It is what it is, Harry. Don’t worry about it.”

 

Harry frowns a bit like maybe he doesn’t trust that he’s being let off the hook so easily, which is understandable considering how fucking livid Louis had been earlier. Louis could’ve wrung his pretty little neck with his bare hands when he came home, but forgiveness must be in the air because he doesn’t feel any of that at the moment.

 

Louis offers him a whisper of a grin; a sort of peace offering to show that there are no hard feelings for the shit that Harry pulled. His husband sighs in relief, the hard set of his shoulders easing tremendously when he turns to go start cleaning up and putting his things back at the foot of the sofa where they belong.

 

It’s past midnight when the three glasses of wine that Louis downed at dinner seem to catch up to his bladder. He pads out into the night to find the bathroom and when he steps back out, his sleepy brain almost forgets that Harry is sleeping on the sofa until a light groan in that direction grabs his attention.

 

Louis tiptoes over and finds the boy squirming on the worn cushions, trying to find a comfortable position. He freezes once he notices Louis in the room.

 

Neither of them says anything for a long time. Louis ends up staring down at his toes when he can feel Harry curiously watching him. He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels nervous when he clears his throat.

 

“I uh- I left the bedroom door cracked earlier... Guess you didn’t notice.”

 

Harry’s hair is a tangled mess from the way he’s been tossing and turning. Louis tries very hard to not find it cute the way one curl is sticking out away from his head.

 

“I saw,” Harry says after a moment of fussing with the sheet balled up in his hands. “I just – I figured with everything that happened tonight…”

 

Louis does recall telling him to fuck off to the living room earlier. At the time, he had meant every word, but he feels differently now. “I know. Your back is going to feel like a nightmare tomorrow if you sleep out here though,” Louis says.

 

It’s not an outright invitation. Neither was leaving the door cracked when he announced that he was going to bed, but he knows Harry has accepted his olive branch when he gets up to follow Louis back to his room. They don’t say anything when they settle into bed together, but Louis feels better by having him there.

 

*

 

The events from the other night with his parents keep popping up to the forefront of Louis’ mind a few days later when he’s alone in the flat. His parents had been his stereotypical parents in the way they always judge him. Louis had honestly expected to get the same sort of treatment from his husband, but Harry took up for him instead and spoke on his behalf. Louis feels indebted to him a bit, which is why he’s spent the last half hour moving all of Harry’s things from the floor in the living room to the newly emptied space in the wardrobe that Louis spent the morning clearing out.

 

Louis’ just moving the last of his things when he picks up the container that holds his husband’s socks and underwear.

 

Louis knows he shouldn’t and that it’s none of his business, but his hand digs around inside of it for the box anyway. He finds the ring still stuffed down at the bottom, out of sight, but clearly not out of mind since Harry’s still hanging onto it.

 

Louis slips the ring on just to see what it looks like on his finger. A warm sensation in his stomach overtakes him when it’s a perfect fit. It’s beautiful and it makes Louis sad to know that Harry picked out something so lovely for someone who didn’t even want it. Louis doesn’t know very much about Isaac. He only knows what very little Harry has told him, which only makes his curiosity grow as he stares down at the dazzling piece of jewelry.

 

Harry’s still got the ring, so in some distant part of his mind he must believe that there’s still a shred of hope for him and Isaac even though he cheated on him and broke his heart. But perhaps Louis has interpreted the situation all wrong and has judged Harry too harshly for holding onto something he knows absolutely nothing about. Maybe Isaac isn’t as bad as his mental image of him suggests.

 

Louis takes the ring off after a moment and stuffs it back in it’s rightful place. He continues moving all of Harry’s things, but now determined to find out what exactly it is that Harry can’t let go of.

 

Louis steals his husband’s phone later that evening while he’s in the shower. He knew that if Harry couldn’t even get rid of the ring then he definitely wouldn’t have deleted him as a contact. And Louis’ instincts are right, because he finds three different numbers for Isaac including the number to where he works.

 

Louis does some digging the next afternoon and eventually finds out where his office is. Louis doesn’t really have a plan when he knocks on Isaac’s door a couple of hours later, but then again Louis rarely ever has a plan.

 

The busy man who answers the door doesn’t even look twice at Louis before letting him in. He’s on the phone with someone, giving Louis apologetic glances over his laptop as he works and tries to get the other person off the phone.

 

He finally hangs up and faces Louis with interest as he snaps his laptop shut. He’s an attractive man; the type who would look nice standing next to someone as beautiful as Harry, but would definitely pale in comparison. His eyes are a kind, light shade of brown, but there’s something else about his demeanor that Louis can’t quite put his finger on. Maybe it’s the fact that Louis knows so much about him already.

 

Isaac raises an eyebrow when Louis takes the seat in front of his desk.

 

“Uh, hi. How may I help you, Mr.-?”

 

“I’m Louis,” he greets him, leaning forward to shake his hand before dropping back down in his seat. Isaac nods, but continues staring at the unknown person sitting in his office. “You don’t know me, mate. I’m actually a friend of Harry’s.”

 

Isaac frowns a bit at that. “Really? I thought I knew all of Harry’s friends,” he says. “The only person he ever hung around besides me was that bloke Liam,” Isaac says with a hint of disapproval in his voice.

 

Louis narrows his eyes at him.

 

“Did you have a problem with Liam?” he asks.

 

Admittedly, Liam wasn’t Louis’ favorite person in the world either when they first met, but there’s no denying the fact that he’s a great friend to Harry. He can be a bit uptight, but that’s no reason to hate the guy.

 

“We had our differences,” Isaac shrugs indifferently. “I could tell he didn’t think too highly of me.” Louis has been sitting here a grand total of ten minutes and he can already see why. Isaac tilts his head at Louis like he still can’t figure out why he’s there. “What was it that you said you needed again? Is this about Liam?” His expression turns annoyed when Louis shakes his head. “Oh God, is this about Harry?” he rolls his eyes. “What does he want?”

 

“He doesn’t want anything,” Louis scoffs at him. “I didn’t say this had anything to do with either of them.” Louis tells him, minding his facial expressions because for some reason he really wants to punch this guy all of a sudden.

 

“Oh. Well, good,” Isaac says sounding almost relieved to not have to talk about his ex. Louis could understand his behavior if it had been Harry who ruined their relationship, but it wasn’t. Isaac was the one who ended it, so he has no right to treat Harry like some kind of thorn in his side.

 

“What the hell is your problem?” Louis asks, looking directly at him.

 

Isaac looks taken aback by Louis’ tone, but only for a moment as his face turns defensive.

 

“I don’t have any problem. Look, you’re his friend, so you know how he is sometimes,” Isaac sighs. “I assume he sent you here for something. I already told him that what we had was fun and all, but that’s all it was. He’s hot, but right now I just don’t want the other shit that comes with being with him. I thought he understood that.”

 

Isaac stares at him; the haughty air to his personality causing Louis’ skin to flare up. Louis’ so angry that he fears that he may actually hit this arsehole. He always figured that Isaac had to be a bit of a prick for him to have treated Harry the way he did, but it’s another story entirely now that Louis sees it for himself.

 

“I’m going to let you get back to work. Thanks for your time,” Louis tells him through clenched teeth. Isaac doesn’t try to stop him. Louis quietly gets up and walks to the door to let himself out, stamping down on his temper before he says or does something stupid. Isaac’s superior smirk pisses Louis off when he glances over his shoulder at him.

 

“Tell your mate hello from me,” Isaac says as he picks his phone up again.

 

Louis was on his way out, but he abandons that plan to face Isaac head on.

 

“Fuck you. I’m not telling Harry anything.” He should’ve just kept walking. He probably could’ve gotten out of this unscathed if he had, but now that he’s started he can’t stop. “You know, you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve talking about him like that after you were the cheating arsehole who ended it, and on his fucking birthday no less. He didn’t send me here, and even if he did it wouldn’t be because he wants you back,” Louis spits, “If he wanted to give you any message at all it would be for you to go fuck yourself because he’s better off without you.”

 

Louis is fuming the entire way back to his flat. Harry is wonderful. He’s sweet and funny and intelligent and amazing and way more that just some hot guy that Isaac got bored of fucking every night. Isaac had the kindest person in the world ready to spend the rest of his life with him, and he threw it all away like a fucking idiot.

 

He’s not quite as mad as he had been when Harry gets home and finds him on the sofa with Isaac’s engagement ring burning a hole in his hand like a piece of coal that Louis wants to throw across the room.

 

“Louis? What are you doing? What’s wrong?” Harry asks, walking in with a wary expression. He comes to sit next to Louis, his gaze immediately landing on the expensive ring lying in the center of Louis’ palm. _His_ expensive ring, actually. “And- Why do you have my ring?”

 

Louis squeezes his eyes shut. Knowing that Harry is going to hate him after he explains all of the extremely poor choices he’s made in the past few hours. “Because I did something stupid,” Louis mutters.

 

Harry grins at him, though it’s a bit sad around the edges. “Well, that’s nothing new is it?” he tries to joke. It falls a bit short when neither of them laugh. 

 

Louis feels like shit. He should’ve just kept his nose in his own business, but he just couldn’t.

 

“You know how I wanted to say thank you for what you did with my parents, so I moved your stuff to the wardrobe? Well, I found your ring just as I was finishing up and I remembered how you said you wanted to get rid of it a few days ago. I figured something must’ve been holding you back from going through with it since you still had it, so I did something incredibly invasive and dumb and stupid and you’re going to hate me and I’m sorry.”

 

Harry breathes long and deep like he doesn’t quite want to know the full extent to what awful thing Louis did. “What happened, Louis?”

 

“I stole Isaac’s number out of your phone this morning and then I went to see him at his office,” he winces. “I only wanted to get a feel for him and just see if you might have a chance together after the two of us have- ” Louis doesn’t say the words ‘gotten a divorce’ because he honestly hasn’t thought about that in a while. Their therapist asked them not to think of their marriage being doomed to head down that path, so Louis has tried not to.

 

Harry seems to get where Louis was going with his statement anyway, nodding slightly for Louis to continue.

 

“And? Did you talk to him?” A crease forms between his eyebrows. “What did he say?” he asks.

 

Louis feels anger flooding through him again. “He’s a dick, Haz.” Louis’ surprised when Harry nods in agreement. He’s glad to know that they can at least agree on that much. “I had to force myself to leave before I ended up breaking his jaw, Harry. I’m so sorry you ended up dating that prick.”

 

“So, I guess he didn’t say anything good?” Harry asks sarcastically like he already knows.

 

Louis shakes his head. “No, he didn’t. But I told him he was awful for what he did to you. I also told him to go fuck himself. I told him that was from you. Sorry,” Louis winces again.

 

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in delighted surprise. “What did he say to that?”

 

“Not a whole lot. I left before he could say anything, but when I looked back at him his mouth had fallen open a bit,” Louis says with a dark grin. It grows when he sees Harry softly grinning to himself as well.

 

Harry isn’t strangling him as of yet, so Louis assumes that he isn’t going to be murdered in cold blood even though Harry should really want to do so.

 

Louis gives the ring back to him, placing it in the palm of Harry’s hand with the sincerest apology that he has ever given. He just hopes that it’s enough.

 

~*~

 

It’s kind of amazing how well things have been for the past couple of months. Harry never would have expected things to actually get easier after he’d stuck his nose where it didn’t belong. Of course, Louis had reciprocated in his own way, with his visit to see Isaac, but they’d both thought they were helping at the time and knowing that made their mistakes easier to forgive. They’re actually getting along really well lately. Dr. Martin had seemed pleased, at least, in their last few sessions. She’d hummed happily, a tiny smile curling the corner of her lips when Louis had informed her that they were sharing a bed now. They hadn’t been able to give an answer when she’d asked why they thought it had taken so long for them to even consider it but she hadn’t pressed, content with the progress they’d made anyway. Harry can admit to himself now, that maybe he was afraid of getting too attached but he can’t say that in front of Louis. He doesn’t know Louis’ reasons for holding back and he doesn’t want to embarrass himself or make things awkward. At any rate, he’s happier now. He may be getting a little attached and he’s well aware of the damage that he may be inflicting on himself in the long run, but he really can’t help himself, can he?

 

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, a message from Louis awaiting his response.

 

_‘Thai for dinner?’_

 

Harry smiles ridiculously fondly down at his phone and answers in the affirmative. He’s really got to get on those cooking lessons with Louis. They’ve decided in the last week or so that they’re going to divide their chores around the flat (a suggestion made by Dr. Martin) and Louis’ nights to make dinner have yet to result in the man actually cooking anything. Harry doesn’t mind so much.

 

He’s still wearing the same smile on his face as he walks into the pawnshop just around the corner from their flat on the way home from work. He’s had a ring burning a hole in his pocket all week long and he feels like now is finally a good time to let go of the past. Louis was right, Isaac is a prick and Harry deserves better. He does his best to refrain from thinking that just maybe he’s found better as he hands the ring over to the pawnbroker for appraisal. Honestly, he doesn’t care what they offer, he just wants to be rid of it. He doesn’t want the stain of his relationship with Isaac hanging over him any longer.

 

He accepts their offer without really hearing it because he’s too busy reading another text from his husband.

 

_‘Just a heads up, Niall has invited himself to dinner.’_

 

Harry’s smile dims a little when he reads that. Niall has never really warmed to Harry. He seems convinced that Harry is only in this for the paycheck. Of course, Harry supposes he didn’t do himself any favors by refusing to just let Louis have it when they’d been in court to get their annulment.

 

His grin grows once more when he gets an idea. _‘Should I invite Liam, then? Make it a double date?’_

 

The pawnbroker clears his throat and Harry looks up to find the man staring grumpily and holding a wad of notes out at him.

 

“Oh, sorry. Thank you,” Harry says accepting the money and receipt and ducking quickly out of the shop to make his way home.

 

 _‘Oh my god. DO IT’_ , greets him when he checks his phone again. He can practically see Louis’ devious smile as he’d typed that out.

 

Harry laughs happily and brings up Liam’s number.

 

 

 

Louis keeps glancing at Harry as they eat dinner and it’s clear that he’s trying to hold in his giggles. Harry’s having the same problem. Niall is drinking his beer and talking a mile a minute about a hot co-worker that obviously wants in his pants while Liam sits stiffly in the chair on Harry’s other side and stares down at his plate as he stabs at his food like it’s wronged him.

 

“So, Harry,” Liam interrupts loudly when he’s had enough. “Do you want to go to that taping for Zayn’s show on Saturday? Show some moral support?”

 

Harry’s about to answer when Louis kicks his leg under the table and gives a significant look. “Relax,” Harry grins at him, kicking him back playfully. “I remember.”

 

“Remember what?” Liam asks dropping his fork to his plate as he watches them warily.

 

“We have a birthday party to go to at Grant Park,” Harry answers, reaching for his drink. “Louis’ little sisters are turning eleven.”

 

“What?!?” Liam and Niall cry in unison and start talking over each other.

 

“Since when do you go to family events together?”

 

“You didn’t tell me the twins were having a party!”

 

“What the hell is going on here? Have I woken up in bizarro world?”

 

“I wanna go to the party. And why the hell is he invited?”

 

“Calm the fuck down!” Louis yells over them, standing up from his chair. When they’ve fallen silent and he has their attention, he turns to Niall first. “Of course, you’re invited Niall. You’re family. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, mum had to call and remind me today so you’re lucky you’re even hearing about it now. Stop being such a baby.” Liam gets an earful next. “And what’s so wrong with us going places together. We’re court-ordered to act like a married couple so excuse us if we actually have a mind to do what we’re told.”

 

“Would be the first time,” Niall mutters into his food and neither Louis nor Harry miss the cough of laughter that comes out of Liam’s mouth, or the smirk he throws Niall’s way.

 

Louis’ eyes narrow at the two of them and Harry doesn’t know if he should be worried or prepare some popcorn and settle in for the show.

 

“You know, if you two would just get your heads out of your arses, you might be able to get each other’s dicks in there. Give us all a bit of relief from the tension.”

 

Harry spits out his drink, ruining his food, eyes watering as he laughs at the looks on their friends faces.

 

Louis grins at him proudly as Niall eyes the pair thoughtfully.

 

Liam rubs at the corner of his mouth with a napkin, placing it on his plate and pushing back his chair when he’s done. “I think I’m going to call it an early night,” he says haughtily.

 

“Li, wait,” Harry chokes out trying to get his laughter under control. “Don’t go. I’m sorry.”

 

Liam rolls his eyes and keeps moving towards his jacket.

 

“Liam, please,” Harry follows, catching him by the elbow and pulling him into an apology hug. Liam lets it happen but keeps his arms at his sides.

 

“You’re laughing at each others jokes and going to family outings together,” Liam intones, low enough so that only Harry can hear. “This isn’t good.”

 

Harry pulls away, still holding Liam’s arms as all the humor fades from his eyes. “Why not? For once, why can’t this be a good thing, Liam?”

 

“He’s going to break your heart, Harry,” Liam utters, eyes sad as he stares at his friend as though he’s already seen the bleak future he’s predicting. Maybe he has in Harry’s past relationships but this is different. Harry wants to shake Liam, he really does. He knows it’s just concern but Liam doesn’t know the whole story. He doesn’t see even half of the things that go in this relationship. And it doesn’t help that Liam refuses to believe in it when Harry so badly needs to.

 

“If he does, feel free to say ‘I told you so’,” Harry answers grimly, getting out of Liam’s way so that the man can leave.

 

“Haz,” Liam calls out, wondering how the tables have turned so suddenly as Harry slumps back into his seat next to Louis at the dining table. He sighs when Harry doesn’t respond and, with a last glance over his shoulder, leaves the flat.

 

A few minutes later, Niall excuses himself as well. He makes some claim about going out to hook up with that co-worker he was talking about earlier and dashes out the door in a whirlwind of quick goodbyes and a “See you Saturday!”

 

“He’s a fucking liar,” Louis laughs, gleefully taking another bite of his food.

 

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, unable to help the way his lips quirk into a smile in the face of Louis’ happiness.

 

“His plate’s still half-full,” Louis explains nodding to the plate in question. “Niall’s never met a meal he didn’t devour in one sitting. Until now, anyway. He’s going to catch up to Liam.”

 

Harry twists his head to stare at their front door in wonder before looking back at his husband. “You think?”

 

“Trust me, babe,” Louis answers with a wink that gives Harry that swoopy feeling in his stomach like he’s on a rollercoaster. The thing is, Harry does. He trusts Louis immensely. He’s not sure yet if it’s a problem.

 

~*~

 

Louis doesn’t expect the slight rush of nerves he feels coursing through him when he and Harry leave the flat together. He has known that the two of them would be attending his sisters’ birthday party for days, but he never stopped to think about what that actually means. Never in his life has Louis introduced anyone to his family. The fact that he’s never even brought home a boyfriend only makes his jitters worse since the man accompanying him today is his husband.

 

“Ready?” Harry asks, cutting the ignition when they arrive at the park. He’s in jeans and a white t-shirt with his hair held back by a pair of sunglasses. His mouth is fixed in a soft grin when he turns, a small sign of contentment that both Louis and his husband have been wearing a lot lately now that they’re getting along so well.

 

When his mother first mentioned it, Louis had expected this day to feel like an obligation rather than a celebration. Something that the two of them had to do in order to show his parents that they’re real. But with the tiny glow of excitement visible in Harry’s eyes and how eager Louis feels to get to see his family all at once, the afternoon feels quite genuine. So far, not one part of this day has felt like an act.

 

“Ready,” Louis confirms, returning Harry’s grin before hopping out of the car. He gets the twins’ gifts out of the back while Harry carefully retrieves the cupcakes he spent the morning baking.

 

Louis had originally planned to pick something out for his sisters and just say that it was from both of them to avoid any trouble, but Harry had insisted upon helping as well as paying for half when Louis mentioned he was going shopping for his sisters. Louis tried to return the favor when Harry broke out the ingredients to make cupcakes. In reality, he wasn’t much assistance from where he sat on the counter watching, but Harry let him pretend like he was helping as he passed Louis the mixing spoon and allowed him to lick it clean.

 

The balloons and signs for the twins are visible as the two of them approach the park entrance. His sisters spot them first, running to attack him with bear hugs as soon as they clear the gate. “God, what have you two been eating?!” Louis exclaims. “I didn’t know an eleven-year-old could be this heavy.”

 

“That’s because there’s two of us and we missed you!” one of them says, both of them squeezing him even tighter around the middle.

 

They giggle when Louis begs to be let go so that he can place their gifts on the ground in order to hug them back. He takes a step backwards when he’s done, squinting to look at them properly and compare their heights like it’s been years since he last saw them instead of just a few months. Harry chuckles from where he’s standing when Louis lies and claims that they haven’t grown an inch this whole time and that they actually look shorter.

 

“Who’s that?” Phoebe whispers. “Mum told us you got married,” she says with a wicked grin when she notices Harry standing just behind him.

 

“Yeah, is that your husband?” Daisy asks, looking over at Harry appraisingly as he nervously shuffles his feet.

 

“Yep, that’s him.” Louis tells them, motioning for Harry to step closer. Louis takes a deep breath, feeling almost as nervous as he did when his parents were in his flat meeting Harry for the first time. “Girls, this is Harry, and Harry these very mature young ladies are my sisters, Daisy and Phoebe.”

 

Louis isn’t really sure how this phase of the ‘meet the family’ process usually goes for couples so he stands there with bated breath. He also doesn’t know when he started thinking of him and Harry as a couple either, but he doesn’t question it.

 

“Happy birthday,” Harry smiles. “Thanks for letting me come to your party.”

 

“You’re welcome,” they answer in unison. Louis always hates when they do that, but Harry seems to be completely charmed by their creepy twin-telepathy.

 

Phoebe’s eyes fall on the tray of cupcakes in his hands. “Did you bake those?”

 

“Yep. Made them this morning. Your brother helped.”

 

Daisy and Phoebe exchange skeptical glances.

 

“You can stay since you made cupcakes especially for our birthday,” Daisy tells him.

 

Phoebe nods in agreement. “And you must be in love with our brother if you’re lying for him, so I guess you can stay too,” she smirks.

 

“Oi!” Louis’ mouth turns down in offense as the girls hug him one more time.

 

“Bye, Lou! Bye Harry!” they call as they make their great escape, somehow managing to swipe their gifts as well before running back to the picnic tables to be with their friends.

 

“I like them. They’re cute,” Harry says, caught in the middle of a losing battle with the grin about to take over his face.

 

“Their charm is entirely misleading. They’re evil,” Louis mutters under his breath, feeling useless now that he doesn’t even have presents to carry.

 

“They were smart enough to know you didn’t help bake these cupcakes,” Harry teases him. There’s a small grin on Louis’ lips when he nudges Harry in the arm and orders him to shut up.

 

Louis had wondered about how well he and Harry would be able to pull off looking like a real couple in front of all of his relatives, but he now knows that he was worried for nothing because his family members basically kidnap his husband and monopolize his time when they see him.

 

They can’t stop asking him questions or fussing over him, while Daisy and Phoebe’s friends can’t stop gawking at him. He overhears one girl going on about how nice he seems and how good he looks with the sunshine streaming through his hair. Louis knows that he probably shouldn’t, but he feels oddly proud finding that he agrees with the girl completely.

 

Harry is being quite consistent with the story of how they met whenever he’s asked, so Louis makes sure to do the same when he’s interrogated about his new spouse. Harry bites down on a grin each time a new member of Louis’ family comes over to pry under the ruse of getting to know him better. It does Louis’ heart good to see Harry falling in line with his own bad habits by lying through his teeth each time someone asks how long they were engaged. The chain of butterflies that awaken and weave their way through his stomach each time they lock eyes over his family’s heads doesn’t feel too bad either.

 

Eventually his mother, forces everyone to stop pestering the newlyweds long enough to sing happy birthday to the twins and slice their cake. They’re all just sitting down to have some cake when the heel of someone’s foot comes slamming down on top of Louis’ toes. He nearly swears out loud when he turns to Harry. He follows Harry’s gaze toward the park entrance and ends up swearing out loud anyway when he sees Niall walking towards them with none other than Liam Payne at his side.

 

“Holy fuck.” Harry crushes his toes again in reprimand as soon as he says it. His family is so wrapped up in the food that no one even notices.

 

Harry’s face is a strange mixture of bafflement and utter shock as their friends approach, not quite walking side by side like a couple, but it’s obvious that they arrived here together.

 

“Hey, everyone!” Niall calls, getting roped into a hug by his mother when he’s close enough. He leaves her after she’s done fussing over him to go wrap the twins in crushing embraces. He wishes them a happy birthday and hands them each pink envelopes which Louis is certain are stuffed with cash as they are every year.

 

Niall makes his rounds saying hello and catching up with all of the other members of Louis’ family with Liam trailing behind him at a distance. He grins and gives a small wave each time Niall introduces him as his mate.

 

Louis feels like he hasn’t blinked the whole time since they arrived, fearful that if he looks away for even just a second the two of them might regress back to that stupid love/hate sexual tension thing they had going on before. Niall finally comes over to their picnic table and drops down right in front of Louis. Liam avoids everyone’s eyes as he takes a seat directly in front of Harry.

 

“What’s up?” Niall asks digging into the cake that Louis forgot he was even eating.

 

“What’s up?” Louis asks, incredulous. He looks between his and Harry’s best mates wondering if he’s missing something here. He glances over at Harry who seems just as astonished as him. “Why don’t you and Liam here tell us what’s up?” Louis demands with a smirk. He wants to make a joke about two things that have most definitely been up recently, but he refrains, remembering that he is currently in a park full of children, and also that Harry is likely to break his toes should he say anything else inappropriate while at this park.

 

Niall shrugs, finishing off Louis’ slice of cake and then reaching for Harry’s as well. “I brought a mate with me to a birthday party. It’s not unheard of.”

 

“But you hate each other,” Harry blurts out. He looks like he regrets it as soon as the words are out and Liam meets his gaze.

 

“I thought both of you wanted us be friends?” Liam asks, looking to Harry for his approval when he should really be looking at Louis since this is what he has wanted for weeks.

 

“Yes! Yes! We do!” Louis insists, wondering how much of this whole ‘friends’ business is actually true. His plan to hold Niall Horan down on the ground and check him for love bites gets shot when Harry answers his friend.

 

“I just want you to be happy, Li.” Harry clarifies in a soft tone. The look he’s giving Liam only grows fonder when he responds with, ‘That’s all I want for you too, Harry.’

 

The tenderness of their hushed conversation makes Louis’ chest feel all tight. He and Niall never get this sentimental. Their friendship never calls for this level of emotion, which is exactly why Louis kicks at his best mate’s shin under the table where to one can see.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me you and Liam were getting so close?” Louis says loud enough for only Niall to hear.

 

Niall retaliates by kicking him back, and twice as hard. “I don’t know? Why didn’t you tell me you were sharing a bed with your husband?” Niall asks, raising a judgmental eyebrow that causes Louis to immediately back down.

 

“So what’d you get the girls for their birthday?” Louis asks instead, knowing better than to push when he has already lost.

 

“The same thing I give them every year. Liam picked out the cards this time though.”

 

Louis tries not to look quite so pleased with this information when he turns to Harry with a significant raise of his eyebrows. “Liam picked out the cards,” he repeats causing Liam to rolls his eyes at him. “Oh, how sweet. Isn’t that sweet, Harry?”

 

Harry doesn’t answer him, he just grins to himself and at his friend as he slaps Niall’s hand away from his plate and steals it back.

 

~*~

 

“Me next!” Daisy yells as she tries to climb onto Harry’s shoulders. Honestly, his back is getting a bit sore but it’s worth it to see the smiles on Louis’ sisters faces as Harry and Louis take turns with them and their friends, spinning them until they’re dizzy with it, laughter echoing across the park.

 

As Harry spins, grinning at the joyous sounds falling from Daisy’s mouth, he uses Louis as his focal point to keep from giving in to the dizziness himself. The fond look he finds on Louis’ face as he watches him makes something flutter, soft and insistent, in his belly. When he puts Daisy down, he feels a little more lightheaded than he’d expected.

 

“Woah,” Louis stops him from tumbling to the side with a firm hand on his shoulder and a wide, teasing smile on his face. “Careful, Curly. You alright there?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry lies with a grin, enjoying the warmth of Louis’ hand through his shirt even if it is making his unsteadiness worse.

 

Louis laughs when Harry takes another step that causes both of them to nearly fall over. “Liar.”

 

Harry grins wider and wraps his arms around Louis’ waist to drag him to the ground with him. They laugh the whole way down. Harry spins during their fall to make sure that he hits the ground first, cushioning Louis’ landing. Louis grins down at him, biting his lip before declaring Harry a menace.

 

“I learned from the best,” Harry tells him, tightening his hands on Louis’ waist just a fraction.

 

Niall breaks the moment, swooping by and picking up Phoebe to spin her around next. Her delighted shrieks causing everyone to look their way.

 

“Uncle Niall is here to save the day! He’s not as weak as these mere mortals!” Niall announces in a ridiculous tone of voice, gesturing at Louis and Harry on the ground for the last bit when he puts Phoebe back down.

 

“Just don’t stand in front of him when he puts you down,” Louis calls from where he’s resting his head on Harry’s chest. “Uncle Niall had a lot of cake.”

 

“Eww,” the girls giggle and scatter as Niall good-naturedly chases after them.

 

Harry sneaks a peak at Liam, still sitting at the picnic table and catches him watching Niall chase the girls with a smitten little grin on his face. He wonders what happened to make everything suddenly work out for those two but he’s glad for whatever it was.

 

“Don’t get me wrong,” Louis says, drawing Harry’s attention away from his friend and back to the playful blue eyes that have been watching him for who knows how long. “I’m glad they finally worked their shit out and I’ll admit that no one wanted it more than I did, but I’ll never stop worrying about those two as a couple.”

 

Harry flattens his lips in an exaggerated pout. “I think it’s nice. They’ve been fighting it for so long and now they’re giving into it, letting love find a way.”

 

Louis’ eyes shine with mischief as he rises on his arms, hands pressed into the ground on each side of Harry’s head and Harry’s spine tingles with the look Louis’ directing at him. “You believe in fate, Harry? That no matter what, if it’s meant to be, it’ll work out?”

 

“I’d like to,” Harry answers maybe a little more earnestly than he means to. “It’s a lovely thought that maybe the universe is actually rooting for us.”

 

“Us?” Louis asks with a raised eyebrow, lips curving up on one side.

 

Harry swallows. “I meant— I meant like the collective ‘us’. Everyone.”

 

“Ohhh,” Louis says as he nods slowly, like he doesn’t quite believe him. He probably shouldn’t. Harry’s too busy being lost in the way Louis’ eyes sparkle in the sun and he nearly misses the way Louis’ smirk suddenly grows. “You’re such a sap, Curly.”

 

Louis rises suddenly, giving Harry a none too gentle tap to the balls as he laughs and runs away, leaving him to try and catch his breath as a sharp ache radiates through his groin.

 

When Harry’s recovered from the hit to his nuts, he carefully walks his way back to picnic tables expecting to be able to sit with Liam for a few restful minutes but his friend seems to have joined Niall in entertaining the birthday girls. He can’t help but smile at the image before him as he watches them. Liam has always been more the type to sit on the sidelines and wait for someone to come to him rather than venturing out to look for his own fun. Maybe Niall is good for him.

 

Harry’s not been sitting alone for more than a minute before Louis’ mother is at his side, Louis’ smallest set of siblings in her arms, one on each hip.

 

“Do you mind holding Doris for a minute, Harry?” Jay asks, already filling Harry’s arms with toddler even before he can answer. “This little cake monster needs a quick wash,” she says, nuzzling her face into Ernest’s belly as he giggles and puts his dirty hands in her hair. She doesn’t seem to care and Harry can’t help the bubble of happiness that floats up from the darkest depths of his heart. He loves children.

 

“Yeah, absolutely,” Harry says even though he’s already holding the little girl. Jay smiles at him and walks off to the loo to clean up Ernie. “Hey, Doris. Remember me? I’m Harry.”

 

He shakes her little hand as she giggles and hides her face in his shoulder, pretending to be shy. Harry knows better. If she’s anything like her big brother, she’s far from shy. “You want to play a game?” He asks, pulling her away from his shoulder and sitting her down on the table in front of him, keeping his hands on her waist as a precaution.  She shakes her head no but smiles like she’s purposely trying to derail Harry’s attempts at entertaining her. Yep, just like her big brother.

 

Harry spends the next few minutes pulling funny faces, making Doris laugh and completely forget her plot to destroy his plans. She whines when her mother comes back and takes her away but Harry promises to play with her again later and that seems to appease her for the moment.

 

The minute Jay disappears, Louis is at Harry’s side again, giving him an appraising look that makes Harry’s skin burn with apprehension. It feels a bit like Louis is looking into the deepest, most intimate parts of him and reading every secret Harry’s ever kept to himself.

 

“You’re not going to hit me in the bollocks again, are you?” Harry asks, covering himself even though it’s not feasible for Louis to be able to where he’s sitting with his legs under the table. He needs Louis to stop looking at him like that before he finds the secret Harry most needs him not to. The one that’s been growing exponentially over the last few week.

 

“Not right now,” Louis promises, offering Harry a hand but no explanation.

 

Harry looks from Louis’ hand to his face, noticing that the spark in his eyes is different now. It’s not mischief, but something that Harry doesn’t quite recognize. He takes the hand and lets Louis help him up from the table.

 

“Let’s go for a walk,” Louis says, turning toward a path on the other side of the park. Harry keeps his hand. For appearances sake.

 

*

 

“So, you want children?” Louis asks once they’re a good distance from the party. His family can still be seen but they’re little blurs of color in the distance. Harry could probably let go of his hand now. He doesn’t.

 

Somehow Louis’ question sounds less like a question and more like a statement. Harry answers anyway. “Yeah. I love children. I’ve always wanted them.”

 

“Me, too. I’ve always had trouble committing to relationships but having kids has always been a secret dream of mine,” Louis says, grinning at the ground as he walks. Harry thinks it’s possible that he’s never looked more beautiful. “How many do you want?”

 

“What? Oh, um,” Harry thinks for a minute, embarrassed that he got so caught up In watching Louis that he’d lost track of what he was saying for a second. Eventually he shrugs with a shy grin. “As many as possible.”

 

Louis turns those blue, blue eyes his way and grins at Harry like that’s the most adorable thing he’s ever heard. Oh god, Harry is absolutely falling in love with his husband. His hand involuntarily tightens on Louis’ and he doesn’t even notice until Louis squeezes his hand back. It loosens the clinching feeling in his chest and Harry takes a deep breath, trying to get back on track. “What about you?”

 

“At least three. But ‘as many as possible’ sounds nice, too.”

 

Harry is almost positive that Louis is poking fun at him based on the quirk of his lips as he says it. Of course, he could be flirting. Harry sincerely hopes he’s flirting.

 

“Favorite baby names?” Harry asks and that sends Louis off on a tangent, rattling off a list of names that Harry is ninety-nine percent sure are jokes. He doesn’t actually believe Louis would name his children Brangelina, Fleek, or Cockapoo and each time he laughs Louis seems to light up just a bit brighter than a moment ago. 

 

Their conversation goes on all night, long after the party is over and they’re finally settling down to bed in the early hours of the morning.

 

“Favorite footy player?” Harry asks, pulling back the covers to climb in bed as Louis slides off his trousers to join him.

 

“You’re kidding, right? Beckham. As if there was any other answer,” He scoffs.

 

Harry laughs. “I like Ronaldo.”

 

“OK, he’s a pretty good choice,” Louis concedes after a minute. “But Beckham is number one in my book. Always.”

 

Harry hums as he rests his head against his pillow. He glances at Louis crawling in to lay next to him and realizes that this was probably one of the top five best days of his life. Louis was responsible for giving it to him and he really wants to do something to repay it.

 

“Hey, um,” Harry starts, turning on his side to face the other man. “I have this event at work in a couple of weeks. It’s an album release party for Coldplay’s newest album.”

 

Louis’ eyebrows raise as he watches Harry silently, waiting for him to finish.

 

“Anyway, Victoria Beckham is on the guest list. It’s possible she might bring her other half.”

A strange squeaky noise escapes from Louis’ mouth before he can bite down on his lips and hold it in. Harry laughs as Louis’s eyes start to bug out of his head a bit. “Do you want to go with me?”

 

“Yes!” Louis answers before Harry can even get the question all the way out.

 

“Okay,” Harry laughs again at Louis’ enthusiastic response. “It’s a date.”

 

The words feel way too natural falling from Harry’s lips and he has to remind himself that it probably won’t be an actual date but he can’t deny anymore that he wants it to be.

 

“Thank you, Harry!” Louis responds, leaning over to grab both sides of Harry’s face and smack a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “I’ll try not to embarrass you too much.”

 

Harry’s pretty sure that the slobber on his cheek was left there on purpose and he uses the blanket to wipe it away as Louis grins at him impishly, confirming his suspicions. He’s also pretty sure Louis is lying about trying not to embarrass him. He’s almost positive the man will do the exact opposite. Somehow, he can’t bring himself to care as he lunges at Louis and tickles him breathless in retaliation.

 

Much later in the morning, Harry wakes up with Louis’ hair in his mouth and their limbs tangled together under the blankets. He removes Louis’ hair from his mouth and smiles down at his sleeping husband before cuddling closer and going back to sleep.

 

~*~

 

No matter how many times Louis says it to himself, he still can’t believe that he’s been invited to potentially breathe the same air as one of his biggest heroes of all time. It’s not like Harry knows Beckham personally or anything or like he can even guarantee that he’ll even be there, but the fact that he’s letting Louis tagalong to this party with him has Louis just as excited as if he were coming over to hang out in his flat.

 

The prospect of seeing the greatest footballer to ever exist is a lot for Louis to take in and process, but all of that’s just minor details compared to what’s really got him so buzzed about the occasion.

 

Louis has a date with his husband tomorrow night. Well, when Harry invited him he said ‘it’s a date’, which everyone knows is just a figure of speech, but still, he couldn’t help but read into it a bit. It is a date as far as Louis’ concerned and it sounds simple enough to spend an evening with your spouse, but the truth is, Louis has never been more nervous about going out with someone in his entire life. It doesn’t matter that he is already legally married to the man.

 

“What about these?” Louis asks, twisting his body so that he can see the way the fabric of the trousers he’s trying on fit across his bum in the mirror. 

 

Niall hums when he glances up from his phone. “Looks good,” he comments before directing his attention back to the conversation he’s been having with Liam for the past two fucking hours.

 

Louis rolls his eyes at his friend’s recycled response. “You realize that you’ve said that about all of them, right?”

 

“Yeah. And I meant it about all of them,” Niall mocks. “You’re buying a suit, not a house. They all look the exact same. You’re obsessing over literally nothing.” Louis glares at him, wanting nothing more than to snatch that stupid phone out of Niall’s hand and stomp on it or smash it or do something to stop him being so smug.

 

He stops being overdramatic and lets Niall continue texting his new boyfriend when he catches his own reflection in the mirror again. These trousers do look almost identical to the ones he chucked to the side a few minutes ago. God, he’s fucking losing it.

 

Louis takes a deep breath. It’s just an outfit like Niall said. It doesn’t have to be this huge deal for him and Harry to go somewhere together where they both have to look nice, except of course for the fact that it kind of is. They’ve never been anywhere together where Louis needed to do more than throw on some jeans and a t-shirt.

 

His sisters’ birthday party a couple of weeks ago was an occasion just like that. Everything felt so laidback and easy. It ended up being such a wonderful day for the two of them. One of the best since they’ve been married. He got to see Harry in an entirely different light that afternoon. He took time to get to know all of Louis’ relatives and he was so patient and sweet with all of Louis’ siblings that he’s pretty sure they now love Harry as much as him and Niall if not more.

 

The day raced by and Louis figured they’d drop the happy couple act as soon as they left the park, but Harry just kept smiling at him in that fond way that he always does. They kept talking and laughing with each other long after the sun went down and before Louis knew it, they were crawling into bed together after a long day spent in the sunshine. Their conversation stretched on, jumping from topic to topic until they eventually passed out, but apparently sleep wasn’t even enough to separate them that night, because when Louis woke up they were all tangled up together like their bodies were just as sad about their golden day ending as they were. Louis still gets butterflies in his stomach when he thinks about the way Harry’s arm had been protectively curled around his shoulders and the way his skin smelled where Louis’ cheek was nestled right against his chest. No one has ever held him like that; not ever.

 

He feels Niall’s eyes on him as he pulls on the matching jacket to his trousers and continues staring at his own reflection. Everyday since his sisters’ party has been great between him and Harry and he really wants tomorrow night to be just as amazing. Louis messes with his fringe a bit and scrubs a hand across the prickly stubble on his jaw that he should probably get rid of. Harry looks incredible every single day whether he’s dressed for work or reading on the sofa. Louis figures he could at least put forth some earnest effort and at least attempt to look as beautiful and polished as his date most certainly will.

 

“Are you buying this one or are you going to try on six more suits that look just like it?” Niall wonders out loud.

 

Louis cuts his eyes over at the amount of snark audible in his tone. “Why did I take you shopping with me again?” Louis asks as he carefully removes his new suit so that it doesn’t wrinkle.

 

“Because you can’t shop on your own for shit, you’re falling for your husband, and you’d be lost without me here to guide you,” he quips.

 

And oh yeah, Louis thinks with a long sigh. That’s why.

 

 

 

The following evening finds Louis right back where he was when he was in the shop with Niall, his nerves coursing through him as he stares himself down in the mirror hanging in his bedroom.

 

He turns to appraise himself from every angle, taking in the slim fit trousers that he thought were too tight, but Niall had insisted were perfect. He hasn’t had to wear a suit since his mother got married nearly three years ago so he had to dig out his only pair of dress shoes from the back of his closet. Louis thinks they look a bit foreign on his feet since the majority of his footwear doesn’t even have laces for him to keep tied.

 

His shirt is pretty standard and after much deliberation he’s decided to leave the jacket unbuttoned. He hates ties and only entertained the thought of wearing one for about two seconds before immediately vetoing it. He’s pretty certain that he’s falling for Harry, and David Beckham is nothing short of amazing, but none of that is worth his neck being squeezed to death all night, so open collar it is.

 

Louis’ hair has been unruly and in need of a trim for months, but that’s something he hasn’t quite gotten around to doing. It only took him about ten minutes of the strands of it not falling right for him to accept defeat and pull out the mousse and the blow-dryer that hasn’t seen the light of day in almost as long as his fancy shoes. He’s gone with a quiff, which feels like a lot when paired with the suit, but if you can’t get away with looking posh to go out with your husband and potentially meet your hero, then when can you?

 

Louis continues fussing over himself until he glances at the clock and realizes it’s nearly time to go.

 

Harry has been dressed and ready for a while now, patiently waiting for him in the living room doing God knows what to occupy himself all this time.

 

It’s rude to make him wait this long even though stalling is only making Louis feel more anxious about tonight in general. Louis hasn’t seen Harry yet, but he’s sure he looks amazing. He just hopes he won’t look too out of place by his side.

 

His eyes do a final sweep of his reflection before he deems himself as ready as he’ll ever be. He takes a deep breath to settle the mixture of nerves and butterflies he feels fluttering through him just before walking out, wondering why there seems to be so many of them congregating at the pit of his stomach.

 

~*~

 

Harry greets Chris Martin just like he’s any other person but Louis’ quiet ‘meep’ at his side when he sees who Harry’s shaking hands with has him smirking and trying to hold back a laugh. He should have known Louis was the type to completely lose his shit in the face of a celebrity he admires.  It’s adorable as fuck. He can’t wait to see how Louis reacts if David Beckham does actually show up with his wife.

 

“And, this is my husband, Louis Tomlinson,” Harry introduces him next and hears another tiny squeal that Louis tries to hide behind his lips as Chris Martin turns his smile on him and offers his hand. Louis shakes it, a somewhat calm if a little speedy “Pleasure to meet you” managing to make its way out of his mouth.

 

Harry gazes at Louis, proud that he’s gotten himself under control long enough to make small talk with the lead singer of the band they’re celebrating. Louis’ cheeks are a tad flushed and his bottom lip is a bit swollen from biting on it to keep himself in check and Harry desperately wants to kiss it. He’s wanted to kiss Louis since he’d left their bedroom, obviously nervous but radiating a happiness as well that Harry doesn’t know if he’s seen from Louis before. He looks so posh and put together and Harry kind of wants to ravage him, make him look a little less pristine by running his fingers through his hair and leaving lovebites all down his throat.

 

He drags his eyes away from his husband, because now really isn’t the time for an awkward boner, and excuses himself to find them some drinks.

 

He’s got a flute of champagne in each hand when he finds Louis again. He’s alone now and as soon as he sees Harry, he rushes to meet him. And, apparently, give him a good punch to the arm.

 

“What the hell, Harry?” He hisses. “You can’t just leave me alone with people here. Like, oh I don’t know, the lead singer of fucking Coldplay.”

 

“Wha- I thought you might need a drink, to help you relax,” Harry explains (read: lies), handing over a glass of champagne. “What did you two talk about anyway?”

 

“Oh, you know, stupid shit like how I loved ‘The Scientist’ and, god, Harry I was such a fucking loser. Don’t do that to me ever again!” Louis stops speaking when he catches the horrified look Harry is directing at him. “What?”

 

“Louis, you didn’t.”

 

“Didn’t what?” Louis asks, and it sounds like he’s afraid to know the answer to that question.

 

“’The Scientist’ isn’t a Coldplay song. It’s OneRepublic,” Harry tells him.

 

“No, it’s not!” Louis says indignantly but Harry can see the trepidation in his eyes as he tries to remember if Harry is right. “Is it?”

 

Harry absolutely can’t go on any longer, dimple appearing on his cheek as he grins widely. “No.”

 

Louis’ eyes narrow and he practically growls at Harry before punching him solidly in the arm again.

 

“Oww!” Harry complains through his laughter.

 

“That wasn’t funny.”

 

“It was a little funny,” Harry disagrees, grinning a proud, little smile at his handiwork.

 

“No, it wasn’t.” Louis pouts.

 

“Come on,” Harry says, still smiling as he puts an arm around Louis’ shoulder to lead him in a circuit of the room.

 

Louis drags his feet, staring stonily into his drink and doesn’t say a word, obviously still upset. So, Harry stops trying get him to walk and merely stands in front of him feeling appropriately guilty.

 

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” Harry murmurs, reaching his free hand up to cup Louis’ cheek. “It was a bad joke and I’m sorry. Do you think you can forgive me?”

 

“I suppose,” Louis grumbles, “but don’t think I won’t get you back for that.”

 

“I suppose that’s fair,” Harry tells him, gently thumbing an eyelash off Louis’ cheek. “And I won’t do it again, I promise.”

 

Louis tenses under the touch, eyes catching on the lash on Harry’s thumb when he pulls it away. When Harry goes to blow it away, Louis stops him, his grip soft on Harry’s wrist. He purses his lips and gently blows the eyelash away before Harry can, keeping his eyes on Harry’s face the entire time. It amazes Harry how such an innocent thing can look so positively obscene when Louis does it and he catches himself biting his lip as he stares at Louis’ mouth.

 

“Were you trying to steal my wish, babe?” Louis asks with a teasing slant to his smile.

 

“I- No,” Harry answers, still a little dumbfounded by how sexy his husband is.

 

“Of course, you weren’t,” Louis says, taking a sip of his drink and licking his lips seductively when he pulls the glass away. Harry thinks he must be doing it on purpose to keep Harry’s attention on his lips.

 

He realizes he should have trusted his instincts when he feels Louis’ knuckles tap him in the nuts. It hurts probably more than if Louis had flat out punched him.

 

Apparently, this is a thing they do now. It doesn’t bother Harry as much as it probably should.

 

He’s just barely able to stand up straight again when his boss is standing in front of him.

 

“Harry, having a good time?” Mr. Cowell enquires, champagne in one hand while his other arm is wrapped around the waist of his wife.

 

“Yes, sir,” Harry tells him. “Thank you. And you?”

 

Cowell shrugs. “You’ve been to one of these things, you’ve been to them all.”

 

Harry tries not to flinch when Louis scoffs at his side, drawing Cowell’s eyes over to him.

 

“And who is this?” He asks.

 

Harry turns to Louis and sees the man giving his boss a haughty expression. It should scare Harry, or at the very least worry him, that Louis is looking at his boss like that. Like he’s got something to say and he’s not even going to attempt to hold his tongue. But instead of worrying, Harry feels oddly proud to introduce them.

 

“This is Louis Tomlinson,” Harry answers, with what he knows must be a besotted smile as he wraps his arm around Louis’ waist, a mirror to Cowell and his wife. “My husband.”

 

Cowell raises a brow at the information, probably because Harry hadn’t shared the news of his nuptials with him yet, but doesn’t comment on it. He turns to Louis instead. “Do you have an opinion on the festivities?”

 

“Oh, they’re lovely by my standards. Of course, it is my first time.” His sarcasm isn’t lost on either Harry or Cowell.

 

Luckily, Cowell looks more amused than anything. “Well, enjoy your evening,” he says to Louis, turning to Harry and not even bothering to lower his voice as he continues,” I wasn’t aware you’d gotten married, Styles.” He glances back at Louis before winking at Harry. “He’s a spitfire. I like him.”

 

Harry can’t help but silently agree as Cowell moves on. Louis is a spitfire. And Harry quite likes him, too.

 

~*~

 

"I can't look. Oh God, is it her? Is he with her?" Louis peeks over his shoulder at the commotion going on near the front entrance. He can't quite make out what's happened or who has just arrived, but from the sound of it, it's someone huge. Possibly even two huge someones. The excitement is too much for him. Louis isn't worthy. He turns away from the door when his excitement starts bleeding into anxious territory. He catches the sound of Harry's amused chuckle where he's leaning in towards him.

 

"I think it might be them. A couple of sports journalists just left to get a closer look," he informs him.

 

"Shit. Shit. Shit," Louis panics. He thought he was ready. The two and a half glasses of champagne and his chat with Chris Martin were supposed to better prepare him for this moment.

 

Maybe Louis' worried for nothing. Maybe he won't even show up. Maybe neither of them will.

 

"Victoria's here," Harry relays since Louis is still turned away. Fuck. So much for that. "She looks so beautiful."

 

And okay, yeah. Victoria Beckham is lovely. Louis' not denying that, but it's her spouse that Louis' more concerned with. "What about David? Is he with her? Is he here?" Louis peeks up at his date, growing incredibly impatient all of a sudden as Harry squints to see past the crowd of people congregated at the front entrance. Louis turns to see for himself, using every bit of self-control he possesses to not squeal or cry or do something equally as embarrassing when he sees David Beckham's face appear in the midst of the horde.

 

"Oh my God," he says through clenched teeth, watching as the greatest footballer of all time walks further into the room with his wife.

 

Louis can't look away. His eyes are glued to the couple, which strikes him as odd considering Harry's gaze is currently locked on Louis.

 

"You should go introduce yourself," Harry encourages him, his green eyes alight and as fond as ever where they're focused on him.

 

That doesn't seem like the best plan at the moment since Louis' barely managing to exist in the same room as his hero. Louis doesn't need to talk to him. Getting the chance to even be here tonight is more than enough. A once in a lifetime opportunity that was made possible by none other than his spectacular husband.

 

Harry staggers backwards when Louis lunges himself to throw his thankful arms around his neck. "Thank you so much for bringing me with you." He can feel Harry's rumbling laughter as Louis squeezes him tight.

 

"Of course, Louis, but I’m glad to have you here as my date. You don't have to thank me."

 

"Yes, I do. No one has ever done something like this for me," Louis says as he lets his arms fall away from his shoulders.

 

"Well, I'm glad I was the first," Harry tells him earnestly with that steady gaze of his that always makes Louis feel too warm. It captivates him, causing Louis to blink himself back into awareness when a new voice sounds just behind him.

 

"Excuse me, mate."

 

Louis turns in the direction of the speaker and nearly pukes from the way real-life David Beckham is less than a foot away as he reaches past Louis to grab two flutes of champagne.

 

"No, excuse us," Harry smiles, taking a step back and pulling Louis with him so that they're out of the way. Louis can't process anything except the quick upturn of David's lips as he nods at them before turning to head back across the room.

 

Louis has no clue where it comes from but somehow he manages actual speech just before he's out of earshot. "Have a good night," he calls, causing David to pause and search for the well-wisher.

 

His gaze lands on him and Harry, giving them both another nod along with a, "Same to you two."

 

Louis' whole life has just been made.

 

Harry's eyebrows are raised in astonishment when Louis gawks up at him. "You just had a verbal exchange with David Beckham."

 

"I know." Louis is composed, calmly placing his drink down on the table and readjusting his jacket on his shoulders. "I'll be right back."

 

Harry's face screws up in confusion. "Where are you going?"

 

"Outside,” he explains. “If I scream in here, I'll just embarrass you."

 

Harry snorts a laugh at that. Giggling the whole time he escorts Louis out to the balcony.

 

Louis is still gushing hours later when they get home. He has already texted Niall and a dozen other people by the time they walk through the door, and Harry hasn't been able to stop laughing at him since they left. Louis isn't offended, knowing that Harry mostly finds him funny rather than a complete dork for being so star struck.

 

He starts undressing as soon as they enter their room, his eyes still holding their amusement as he starts kicking off his boots and his trousers as well as unbuttoning the rest of his shirt.

 

"And can you believe how nice he was?" Louis continues. "Like, you'd think someone that famous would be a complete prick but he's all, 'excuse me, mate,' like he's not the single greatest sportsman alive!"

 

Harry laughs at his impression just like he's been doing all night each time Louis retells the story of their brief interaction. It makes Louis feel good to know that his husband is humoring him instead of begging him to stop talking like he probably should.

 

He walks over to where Louis is toeing off his shoes by the door. His smile doesn't falter as he sticks the buttoned cuff of his wrist out towards Louis with questioning eyes. "Would you mind? I always have a hard time with them," he admits a bit bashfully.

 

The green of Harry's eyes has been following him since they first left the flat earlier tonight. Since then, Louis has had several drinks and held conversations with important people and big name celebrities, however none of that has caused his stomach to flutter the way it is right now.

 

Louis obliges, shrugging out of his jacket first and laying it flat on the dresser. He reaches out to gently unfasten Harry's cuff, feeling nothing but his husband's hot gaze the whole time he does so.

 

"You looked really nice in that tonight."

 

Louis swallows hard at the compliment. "Yeah? Thanks," he says back in what he hopes is his regular voice rather than the whispered version he's currently hearing. "Niall helped me pick it out."

 

The cuff of Harry's sleeve falls open once Louis successfully undoes it. He quickly gives Louis his other wrist so that it gets the same treatment. "You two did a very good job," he grins. "You looked great."

 

Louis feels himself blush. He doesn't understand how Harry always manages to make him do that when no one else ever has.

 

Harry thanks him when his other wrist is free. He slips out of his shirt before walking back towards the bed and Louis' eyes linger on every muscle visible to him in the dim light. Louis is almost caught staring when Harry glances over his shoulder; almost, though he quickly averts his eyes.

 

When Louis finishes undressing and comes over to the bed, Harry's already in it, quietly watching as Louis slides in next to him.

 

He looks so good this close. Well, in all honesty, Harry looks good from any distance, but even more so when he's lying beside him. For a few selfish seconds, Louis lets his eyes rove over all of the beautiful lines of his face from the sharp cut of his jaw to the pillowy flesh of his husband's lips.

 

Louis' stomach flips when his eyes move back up to Harry's, noticing the way he had to tear his gaze away from Louis' mouth in order to look at him. They stare at each other for a long while with neither of them saying a word. Louis knows what he wants to happen here. He's been dreaming about it happening for weeks now, and he's pretty sure he's not going to get it when Harry wishes him a goodnight and then unexpectedly flips onto his other side. Louis is left reeling, hanging onto a moment he for sure thought was going to end up with their mouths finally pressed together. Louis lets out a silent sigh. He tries not to feel too disappointed about it as he settles down into the mattress, forced to stare at the smooth skin of Harry's back where he's turned away.

 

He's just about to close his eyes to get some sleep when he sees Harry shift backwards into his space, noticeably bringing his back much closer to Louis' front. Harry has only moved a few inches, but for some reason Louis feels as though the gesture might've been a small invite. He takes it, scooting in the rest of the way towards him until his knees just barely brush the back of Harry's.

 

The air in the room feels thick when Louis freezes, unsure of just how close Harry wants him to get, terrified of having misinterpreted the entire situation until he feels Harry's sure hand reach back to settle Louis' arm over his body.

 

The small amount of air leaving Louis' lungs is barely even audible as Harry rustles around to get comfortable. Louis doesn't fully relax until he hears the calm exhale of Harry's sigh.

 

"Goodnight," he whispers, giving Louis' arm a light squeeze where it's still wrapped around him.

 

"Goodnight," Louis replies, reminding himself to breathe as he lets his eyes slide shut.

 

 

 

The next morning gently pulls Louis out of sleep with the sunlight peeking in through the window along with the scent of Harry's skin filling his nose where he's curled into his chest. Louis wonders at what point during the night they shifted to lie this way rather than in the tentative pose they had adopted when they fell asleep.

 

He lies there for a while just listening to Harry's even breaths, enjoying the way his strong arms feel where they're holding him close.

 

Eventually, Harry begins to show signs of stirring. His arms tighten in around Louis as he yawns and breathes in the scent of his hair. Harry shifts down to nuzzle into the skin of his neck next, his nose traveling up the gentle slope of it as well as along the stubbly line of Louis’ jaw. The soft, unexpected touches tickle and cause Louis to squirm and chuckle where their faces are nearly pressed against one another. Harry immediately stills at the sound with a soft gasp, obviously just now fully waking up and realizing what he was doing.

 

"M’sorry about that," he blushes. He tries to innocently slink back so that he's no longer invading Louis' space, but Louis hurries to catch him, surging forward in a moment of sheer nerve and optimism to press their lips together.

 

The connection between their lips is delicate as they gently slide against one another in the quiet. Louis has wanted Harry this way for a long time. Just to be able to taste him. To know if his lips really are as soft as he remembers from nearly six months ago. It's obvious that the alcohol and desert heat did nothing to cloud Louis' perception of that night, because this kiss is just as good as all of the ones they shared together in Vegas. It may even be better, but that’s just Louis' opinion.

 

~*~

 

Harry has to force his body not to curl around Louis completely as his husband kisses him. Instead, he buries his fingers in Louis’ hair and kisses back gently, lips sliding together so perfectly. He’s been wanting this, wanting Louis, forever. Maybe he can admit to himself right now that he never quite managed to not want Louis, even when they were at their worst. His heart beats wildly in his chest and he doesn’t want it to stop. He has never felt so alive as he does when he’s with Louis. Ever. That has to mean something, right?

 

All of these sudden revelations do nothing to stop Harry from pressing their lips together again and again. They’re fairly chaste, the kisses he and Louis share just now, and he’s so grateful that Louis made the first move even if it is when Harry’s mouth still feels fuzzy from sleep and he hasn’t had the chance to brush his teeth. He’ll give Louis a thousand kisses whenever he wants them if he’ll just stay. Harry desperately wants him to stay, for this all to be real and not a dream that will leave his heart in pieces when he wakes.

 

“I’ve been wanting to do this forever,” Louis whispers into Harry’s lips, a contented sigh following the confession.

 

“Me too,” Harry says, pressing his mouth to Louis’ once more, because it’s apparently a good morning for quiet declarations. He’d be content to keep kissing Louis even if it were to remain these innocent grazes of their lips, never going any deeper, but Louis’ stomach growls making them both laugh a little. “I’ll go make us breakfast.”

 

“I can wait a little longer,” Louis claims, trying to catch Harry’s arm as he rises from the bed to pull him back into it. Harry wants to let him but he also kind of wants to take care of his husband.

 

Harry leans over to give Louis another kiss to tide them both over for a little while, almost falling when Louis tugs his arm again but just managing to keep his balance. He laughs at the cute pout on Louis’ face when he doesn’t manage to send Harry toppling into his arms. “Why don’t you take a nice, relaxing shower while I cook breakfast and then after we eat, we’ll go out for a while and see what trouble we can get into?”

 

He loves the way Louis smiles at him so sweetly with just a hint of mischief burning in his eyes as he agrees, letting Harry go so that he can stumble into the kitchen and cook them some food.

 

Harry almost drops the plate he’s setting on the table for Louis when the man comes out from his shower in only a towel, shoulders still dotted with little drops of water that Harry would be more than happy to lick away.

 

“I have nothing to wear, Harry,” He complains, looking entirely too innocent when Harry knows for a fact that he’s lying. Harry washed an entire load of Louis’ laundry two days ago.

 

“Hmm,” Harry hums, moving closer once he’s sure the plates are safe from his clumsiness. “I guess your only choice is to go out in that towel, then.”

 

Louis shivers when Harry’s fingers find his shoulders, gently gathering up the water droplets on his fingers so that he’s not so tempted to remove them with his mouth. Louis’ hands catch on Harry’s wrists, holding his hands in place while Louis blinks up at him. The sexual tension in the room will drive Harry insane if something isn’t done soon. 

 

“Maybe I could borrow some of yours?” Louis suggests, and that sounds so good. Harry’s never really been bothered about sharing clothes with his boyfriends before. It just happened sometimes and it was never a big deal but the thought of Louis in one of Harry’s shirts is… it’s kind of short-circuiting his brain, if he’s honest.

 

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, swallowing hard. “You should definitely do that.”

 

“Okay,” Louis accepts casually like he hasn’t just set Harry’s skin on fire with arousal at the idea. He presses up on the tips of his toes to kiss Harry’s lips once more, leaving a hint of mint in his wake when he turns to go dig through Harry’s clothes for something to throw on.

 

“Breakfast is ready,” Harry calls to Louis’ back when his brain comes online again.

 

“I’ll be right back,” Louis says over his shoulder, throwing a cheeky wink at Harry as well.

 

Harry sits down to eat his food, still a bit dazed as all the images of Louis being swallowed up by his clothes flash through his mind. He’s still caught in his imagination when Louis comes out of their room, clearing his throat to get Harry’s attention.

 

“How’s this?” He asks, fiddling nervously with the hem of the black shirt he’s borrowed.

 

Harry lifts his head and drinks Louis in. A plain black shirt has no right to look so sexy but it’s so big on Louis, dipping down to show his collarbones and Harry bites his lip because Louis’ across the room so he can’t bite them. His eyes trail down and get caught on Louis’ legs, looking sinful in a black pair of Louis’ own trousers, rolled up to show off his ankles.

 

“I didn’t even try for your trousers, there’s no way they’d fit over my arse,” Louis chuckles but it sounds a little shaky to Harry’s ears.

 

Harry stands from the table, breakfast forgotten as he moves towards Louis. “You look absolutely gorgeous,” he says when he reaches him, fingers tracing lightly over the collarbones on display. Is it possible to want someone so bad that it physically hurts? Because Harry thinks he’s having that problem. Only it’s not really a problem. He’s happy to endure it if it means he gets to be this close to Louis.

 

“Thank you.” Louis’ voice is quiet as he accepts Harry’s compliment, leaning just a little into Harry’s touch.

 

Harry blinks his eyes, regaining control of himself as he pulls his reluctant hands from Louis’ skin. “Breakfast is going cold. You should eat while I shower.”

 

“Oh, okay,” Louis answers, words just the slightest bit slurred like maybe he’s just as dazed as Harry’s been all morning.

 

Harry slips away to take a quick, cold shower. It’s invigorating and has the added benefit of keeping his thoughts from straying to places he can’t afford to let them go just yet. He brushes his teeth when he’s done. He’s maybe done things a bit backwards this morning, he thinks as he rinses the foam from his mouth, but is it any wonder when he’d woken only to be claimed by Louis’ lips for the first time since they’d woken up married. He’d thought of that day with regret for a long time but he can’t regret where it’s taken him now or the feelings that have sprung from the actions of that day.

 

With a new sense of resolve, Harry replaces his toothbrush and exits the bathroom. He dresses in a red and black button-up with only the bottom three buttons holding the shirt closed and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He always catches Louis staring when he thinks Harry isn’t looking when he wears his shirts like this. He hopes it’s a good thing. His trousers already feel impossibly tight when he pulls them on, or maybe that’s his skin, blood churning through his veins hot and chaotic when he thinks about what he’s going to do when he goes out to meet Louis again.  He pulls on his socks and boots with trembling fingers and takes a deep breath before stepping out of the bedroom. His curls hang wet and cool against his neck and he’s grateful for it when Louis looks at him with heat in his gaze.

 

“You look good.” His voice sounds strangled, as though he has to choke out the words. Is that good? Harry thinks that might be good. “Ready?”Louis asks, pushing away his plate of half-eaten pancakes.

 

Harry is ready. He’s so ready. “Yeah.” His voice comes out barely above a whisper as he and Louis step closer to each other.

 

They meet at the front door and Louis turns, hand on the doorknob before Harry’s hand on his wrist stops him and he twists back to look at Harry questioningly.

 

“Before we go, there’s something I’d like to do. If that’s okay?” His tone makes it a clear question. He should perhaps have Louis’ permission for this.

 

“Of course, Curly,” Louis grins reaching up to tug on a wet lock of Harry’s hair. “What did you have in mind?”

 

“This,” Harry announces, cupping a hand around the back of Louis’ neck and tilting his head down ever so slowly. Louis doesn’t give him time to question what he’s doing once he realizes where Harry’s going. He meets Harry halfway, opening up for it eagerly when Harry licks into his mouth. It’s tantalizing, tasting Louis like this and Harry can’t believe he’s held out so long to do this again.

 

“You know,” Louis starts with a grin when they break apart. “I think I’d be okay with staying in, after all.”

 

“But I want to show you off,” Harry argues half-heartedly, reaching to tangle their fingers together between them.

 

“Later?” Louis suggests, pushing out his lower lip in a pout that he seems well aware Harry can’t resist. “We’ve got time.”

 

They do go out for a while, walking around the city with clasped hands because Louis’ argument is right but it works both ways and Harry doesn’t want to rush into anything and risk ruining what they seem to be building. If this is going where Harry hopes it’s going, they’ll have all the time in the world.

 

~*~

 

A week later earns Louis a seat across from their marriage counselor, Dr. Martin. Louis can feel Harry’s body heat where their legs are lined up and nearly touching. It’s a major change from the last time they were here when the two of them still sat near opposite ends of the sofa, but it isn’t as big of a deal as the way their hands have been linked together since they stepped into the room ten minutes ago.

 

Louis’ palms started sweating the moment Dr. Martin looked up and started grinning to herself as she began writing in her mysterious notebook. He had immediately wanted to let go of Harry’s hand just so he didn’t have to feel so self-conscious about it, but Harry held on tight, using his thumb to rub reassuring strokes along his skin. Dr. Martin still observes them interacting and writes things down, but it doesn’t bother Louis anymore. He knows whatever she’s writing about them is good. It just has to be.

 

“Tell me how things have been going with shared chores and duties at home,” she begins.

 

Louis and Harry face each other, unsure of who should answer. Harry caves first.

 

“It’s been going well, I think. We alternate making dinner during the week like you suggested and we take turns tidying up different rooms. Say for instance, if I clean the kitchen then Louis cleans the bedroom and vice versa.”

 

Their counselor nods, seeming to find this report satisfactory. “It sounds like a good system. Is it working so far?”

 

“I think so,” Louis smirks. “I don’t make as much of a mess in the bathroom anymore because now I know how annoying it is to clean.”

 

“Yeah, now he uses a towel when he gets out of the shower and everything,” Harry grins.

 

Dr. Martin’s lips pull up in the corners as she watches their exchange before she predictably begins scribbling.

 

“Okay. Let’s move on then. Has anything changed since the last time we talked about you sharing a bed? Is that still going well too?”

 

Dr. Martin zeroes in on Louis when he subtly ducks his head to hide the slight blush he feels rising to his cheeks. Sharing a bed with Harry has been amazing and even more so over the last week since they kissed. At one time he had been so against having Harry sleep next to him. He can’t believe he was so fucking stupid.

 

“There hasn’t been much change,” Harry thankfully answers for him. “Things are still going well.”

 

Dr. Martin blinks between them with a small smile playing at her lips. Her eyes do a quick inventory of their body language, focusing on the close proximity of their bodies and their hands still connected between them.

 

“You say there hasn’t been any change, but are you sure about that? I’m curious as to what you think, Louis.”

 

Louis sucks in a quick breath at being addressed so directly. This is one part of their session that he’d rather not fuck up by saying something wrong.

 

“I agree with Harry,” he says just to be safe, but she isn’t letting him off that easy.

 

“The two of you seem closer to me or more intimate, I should say. Do you think that’s a direct result of sharing a bed?”

 

Louis feels put on the spot trying to figure out the answer that Dr. Martin wants from him. He can feel Harry’s eyes on him now too as they both wait for him to come up with something to say.

 

“It’s true that we’ve become closer recently, but not- not intimate…not yet,” he says in a rush of air, hoping he doesn’t sound like as much of a prick as he feels like using the word intimate to describe his and Harry’s sex-life, or rather their current lack of one.

 

Dr. Martin deems his answer an appropriate one and thankfully drops her gaze to start writing. Louis breathes easier when he’s no longer her main focus, but the feeling only lasts a moment because when he glances over, Harry’s gaze is now burning into him too. Louis backtracks through everything he just said and wonders which part of his answer Harry disliked or found fault with.

 

He can’t figure it out, but then Dr. Martin asks Harry if he agrees with Louis’ statement and then Louis realizes why his husband’s eyes are so much darker than their usual shade of light-green.

 

He has to forcibly tear his eyes away from Louis in order to even look at her. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Martin,” he apologizes. “What was the question again?”

 

“I asked if you agree with Louis.”

 

Harry nods, after a quick moment of consideration. “I do. He’s right. We have become closer. More affectionate, but not intimate. Not yet.”

 

He meets Louis’ eyes again and it sends a series of chills down his spine figuring out that the yet part of his response is what has Harry eyeing him like that might change any time now.

 

Yet is good. Louis can do yet. It’s really just a fancy word for later and Louis has absolutely no problem with that.

 

Louis is completely inside of his own head, finally letting himself imagine things that he’s been keeping at bay for the sake of his sanity. Dr. Martin has to politely clear her throat to get their attentions back. Louis gives his, but not willingly. He’s still got half of his mind on what Harry’s skin would taste like beneath his tongue when her next words snap him out of his head.

 

“The court has asked me to remind you both that your next meeting with the judge is coming up this month. It’s in just a few weeks, so make sure you’re both in attendance.”

 

Louis remembers sitting here for their very first session thinking he had more chance of getting struck by a bolt of lightening than making it through six whole months as Harry’s husband. Nearly half of a year he’s spent with him and now they’re down to nothing but mere weeks.

 

The Louis from that first session would be ecstatic to hear such news. The one in real-time just feels sort of empty.

 

He calls Niall later that night to remind him that he’s supposed to go with him to the court date since he was there for the first one.

 

“Shit. It’s been six months already?” he asks in amazement.

 

“Yeah, I know. It doesn’t feel like it, does it?”

 

It flew by. Louis can’t believe he wasted three quarters of it trying to get Harry to leave him. The line goes eerily quiet after a while. Louis figures Niall has lost interest in their call while he mentally berates himself for being an idiot, but then his best friend’s voice quietly comes through.

 

“Louis… I’m worried about you. Are you going to be alright?”

 

No. He’s not. There no way he could ever be alright if it means being without Harry. “Yeah, of course,” he laughs darkly. “It’s just a stupid court date, Ni. It’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll be fine.”

 

“Lou,” Niall tries. Perhaps Louis wasn’t as convincing as he’d hoped.

 

“Hey, listen, Ni. It’s getting late so I’ve got to go, but do me a favor and remind Liam. You’ll probably see him before Harry or I will,” he chuckles, silently burning with jealousy. The two of them have it so easy. They simply hated each other and somehow fell in love and now they get to be together. He wishes it could be that simple for him and Harry, but it’s not. He loves Niall for the effort he’s making to understand where he’s coming from, but he just doesn’t get it. There’s no way that he possibly could.

 

He gives up with a defeated sigh. “Yeah, Lou. I’ll let him know,” Niall promises. Louis doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else before claiming he has to go again and letting the call end.

 

They’ve still got time. Louis still has time left with Harry and he’d rather not spend what’s left of it dreading the fact that it’s almost over.

 

He straightens himself out before walking out of the bedroom, making sure to erase any traces of his and Niall’s conversation from his face before heading to the living room.

 

He finds his husband there watching some stupidly boring show all tucked up on the awful sofa that he had to sleep on for months. Louis sits down next to him, admiring how soft and beautiful he looks when he’s relaxing after a long day. He cups Harry’s cheek and brings his mouth down to his, pressing a light kiss to his lips just because he can. He feels Harry grin into it before he lets go, and just like that, all thoughts of their ominous date with the judge disappear. He’s got Harry right now and that’s all that matters to him. Some stupid court date weeks from now isn’t going to ruin that, so Louis settles down next to his husband and watches the stupid show that he’s never even heard of. It’s worth it just to sit with him for a while.

 

~*~

 

Harry’s job has always been a bit of a frenzied rush to get things done.  Lots of pressure and stress go along with what he does but despite how demanding it can be, he’s always loved it. He’s not used to the best part of his day being early evening when he gets to wrap everything up for the day and head home. He didn’t used to long for the sight of his front door and what waited for him just beyond it.

 

It’s strange, Harry had thought that what he’d had with Isaac was what he’d wanted. He thought he had the perfect relationship because they’d worked so well together and it was just… easy. But more and more lately, Harry’s come to realize that easy doesn’t equate to happy. Things with Louis aren’t always easy, even now, but Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy. He questions if he’s ever truly been in love before if this is what it feels like because he’s never felt anything quite like this before in his life.

 

He checks the mail when he gets home, flipping through Louis’ pile of junk mail to get to the bills he’s been having forwarded from his own address as he climbs the stairs and whistles a happy tune. He freezes just as he reaches the door to the flat and stares down at the envelope in his hands for a good few seconds before tearing it open.

 

‘Lease renewal’ jumps out at him as he reads and he throws a glance at the door he’s stood in front of.

 

It’s time to renew the lease on the flat he still has but hasn’t used in almost six months and he’s never wanted to do anything less. Renewing his lease means he’ll be living somewhere that doesn’t have Louis, and Harry isn’t ready to give him up. Doesn’t actually plan on giving him up at all if Louis is at all amenable to that plan.

 

Harry stuffs the letter back into the ripped envelope and shoves it in his briefcase. He’ll worry about that later, he just really wants whatever takeout Louis has ordered them (because he still doesn’t exactly cook on his nights) and to cuddle up next to his husband while they watch shit telly. Louis hates half of what Harry watches, calling it boring most of the time, so he’s started commandeering the remote. Maybe one day Harry will tell him that he doesn’t watch even a third of those shows, he just settles on them to watch Louis get all huffy and order him to hand over the control. Maybe he’ll tell him that he loves the way Louis looks all cute and smug once he finds something to watch that he can actually tolerate. Maybe one day soon.

 

He unlocks the door quickly and opens up calling out a “Honey, I’m home,” because he thinks it’s funny – and lately, very appropriate – before stopping in his tracks again.

 

Louis is standing next to the dining table shifting from foot to foot and watching restlessly as Harry takes in the meal laid out on it. It doesn’t appear to be takeout, the food displayed on actual plates, two candleholders full and burning bright in the center of the table.

 

Harry puts down his briefcase and walks over to get a closer look.

 

“This looks fantastic, Louis,” Harry tells him, earning a pleased grin that makes his blood burn hotter. “What’s the occasion?”

 

“Can’t I cook my husband a nice meal every once in a while?” Louis asks innocently.

 

“Not usually,” Harry chuckles, earning a slap to the arm when Louis scoffs, playfully offended.

 

“Shut up, I put a lot of hard work into this,” Louis says holding up the middle finger of his left hand. ”Look, I even burned myself.”

 

Harry doesn’t actually see a wound on Louis’ finger and he’d bet money that Louis is just using it as an excuse to give Harry the finger but he takes Louis’ hand anyway and presses his lips to the invisible burn.

 

“Oh,” Louis inhales a sharp breath at the kiss and gets a glimmer in his eye that Harry recognizes. “I also burned myself right here,” he points to his bottom lip this time.

 

Harry traces a finger over Louis’ lip trying very hard not to find it quite so irresistible. “How’d you manage that?”

 

“Not sure,” is the only reply beyond Louis pouting out his lip for Harry’s inspection.

 

Harry doesn’t buy it for a second but he still leans in just as he’s sure Louis knew he would and presses a kiss there as well. Louis doesn’t allow him to pull away so easily this time, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and deepening the kiss just long enough to leave Harry reeling from the loss when he breaks it off.

 

“Sit down,” Louis orders, pulling out Harry’s chair for him and pushing him down into it when he doesn’t move fast enough. He falls into his own seat soon after but can’t seem to sit still.

 

“Smells delicious,” Harry tells him, picking up his fork. “What is it, exactly?”

 

“Chicken stuffed with mozzarella, wrapped in parma ham with a side of homemade mash,” Louis rattles off, eyes watching raptly as Harry cuts off a piece and takes the first bite.

 

“Oh my gosh, Louis,” Harry moans, “this is fantastic.”

 

“Really?” Louis asks, somehow still seeming unsure of himself despite Harry’s compliments.

 

“Really,” Harry reaches a hand over and places it on top of Louis’, thumb caressing his skin. “Thank you for making me this lovely meal, Louis. It’s perfect.”

 

Louis doesn’t reply, just gives Harry a shy smile before picking up his own fork and scooping up a bite of potatoes.

 

They chat about their day for the rest of the meal, mundane things that they’ve talked about a hundred times before but it feels different this time. Harry thinks maybe it has something to do with the growing affection between them.

 

When Harry cleans his plate, eating every last bite of the food Louis cooked for him, Louis gives him the happiest smile and he suddenly knows exactly what he wants to do about the lease renewal notice he got in the mail.

 

“Can I ask you a question, Lou?” Harry asks, pushing his dirty dishes to the side for the moment. There are more important things to worry about right now.

 

“Of course,” Louis answers, pushing his plate aside as well and letting Harry take his hand when he reaches for it.

 

“Are we -,” he starts but suddenly realizes he has no idea how to ask what he wants to. “Ok, um. I got a notice in the mail today. It’s time to renew the lease on my flat.”

 

“Oh, that’s not really a question,” Louis points out as he looks away, grin fading as he tries to pull his hand from Harry’s. Harry doesn’t let him.

 

“I don’t want to do it,” Harry blurts out, panicking because Louis’ trying to pull away and he doesn’t know how else to make him stop. And stop he does, going still on the other side of the table but at least his eyes are on Harry now instead of the floor. “I don’t really want to live anywhere that you aren’t. And maybe that’s crazy. Maybe it’s too much to ask this soon after we’ve actually started getting close to each other but I’ve never been this happy, Louis. I know our six months is almost up but I don’t care anymore. If you’ll have me, I’d much rather stay here. With you.”

 

Louis stares at Harry, for just long enough that Harry wonders if he’s made a terrible mistake, and when Louis pulls his hand free, for one heart-stopping moment, he’s certain he has. But then Louis is at his side, pulling him out of his chair and kissing him, deep and fiery and like he’ll never stop. Harry really hopes that’s the case.

 

“Take me to bed,” Louis orders against Harry’s lips.

 

And, ok, maybe they can stop for that.

 

~*~

 

Louis realizes that he technically told Harry to take him to bed, but he’s not really giving him much chance to follow through with his request from how eagerly he’s pulling at Harry to move them out of the kitchen.

 

They only make it a few steps away from the table before Harry pulls back to break their kiss.

 

His heart falls from the absence of his husband’s lips, but it floats right back up to pound in his throat as he watches Harry elegantly lean over the table to blow out the candles that Louis spent ages trying to light before he got home. He spent a lot of time on this entire dinner tonight, just wanting to do something nice for his husband. Something that would make him smile and feel appreciated, just like he does for Louis every day. He just wanted Harry to know that these six months haven’t been a waste for him. He wanted Harry to know that the time they’ve spent together means something, and then Harry went and did the unthinkable by telling him that they can have this forever.

 

Harry’s hand comes up to cup the back of Louis’ neck and pull him forward into a new kiss that causes Louis’ breath to catch in his throat. Their journey through the kitchen continues as Harry takes him by the waist again and guides them towards the bedroom, every new press of his lips sending a shiver down Louis’ spine.

 

Every kiss that they’ve shared during the past few weeks has been pretty chaste on both of their ends to keep them from going too far too soon. Those tentative moments felt as delicate as glass, where Louis’ heart would flutter out of control in a way that he’s never experienced in his life. But those kisses were nothing at all compared to the way Harry is currently licking into his mouth and kissing him with so much intent that Louis’ lungs feel tight from the small amounts of air he’s taking in.

 

They reach the bedroom and Louis’ fingers are already working to get Harry out of his clothes. Blindly, he starts unbuttoning his husband’s work shirt and slides it off of his broad shoulders. He unfastens his trousers next, getting rid of them as quickly as he can manage with the amount of anticipation he feels coursing through his body. He has wanted this for so long. For months. Six of them, to be exact and now that they’re here, all Louis can think about is the two of them tangled up together and making love beneath the sheets. He’s never wanted to have that with anybody else in the entire world, but Louis wants it now and he wants it with Harry.

 

The room is silent as Harry pushes him back onto the bed and starts removing his shirt. He does it slowly, seeming to savor the way the fabric moves to reveal each new inch of skin that he presses his warm lips to. Louis usually doesn’t have the patience for this kind of thing. He has only gone to bed with men who were after the same exact thing as him. No one has ever taken the time to appreciate him or his body, at least not the way that his husband is.

 

He removes Louis’ clothes at such a gradual pace that Louis’ skin feels as though it’s humming by the time Harry is done tasting every portion of it. There’s a fresh bruise on his right hipbone and one just beneath his chin. There are a couple of marks he feels tingling below his navel, and a large one on the inside of his thigh that Louis had to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning as Harry sucked it into his skin.

 

He only has his underwear left. A piece of fabric so thin that Louis can feel Harry’s hot breaths through them as he gently peels them away, his lips following along the trail of new skin that’s revealed to him as he works the underwear down Louis’ thighs.

 

Louis lies completely still when he’s naked, watching intently as Harry crawls back up his body and recaptures his lips with his own. Louis kisses him back, pulling at his curls to bring him even closer than he is already. Harry gasps into his mouth when Louis wedges his hand under the elastic of his underwear to feel how hard he is just from getting Louis undressed.

 

Louis gives his dick a few tugs, grinning when Harry hangs his head to bite at the sensitive skin beneath his ear, creating a new bruise to blossom on Louis’ skin. Louis circles his thumb around the tip of him until he feels warm liquid coating the pad of his finger. Harry lets out a shaky breath, his willpower only lasting a few seconds more before he’s pushing away from Louis in search of the lube and a condom. Louis tells him where to look, smirking when Harry rushes to the bedside table to dig through it. He comes back to Louis with his underwear gone and his fingers already slicked up as he settles down between his thighs.

 

He pushes Louis’ legs back with eyes so dark that Louis feels his neck and chest flushing from how eager Harry is to touch him. Louis widens his legs in invitation and sighs when he feels Harry’s fingers push into him one by one.

 

Louis is trembling by the time Harry is finished opening him up. He sits up to connect their mouths again, and reaches for the condom that Harry threw onto the bed in his haste to prep him. Louis tears it open and rolls it on for him, grinning when he finally gets to pour lube all along his length to coat him.

 

He lies back when Harry asks him to with his stomach fluttering wildly. He accepts the reverent kiss that Harry burns onto his lips feeling every bit of the love that Harry whispers that he feels for him when he pulls away.

 

Louis says it back, even though he’s sure Harry can see it in his eyes. Louis has never had the privilege to say those three words to someone who makes him feel the way Harry does. He wants to repeat them over and over for the rest of his life.

 

Harry’s eyelids flutter shut as Louis’ words wash over him. He carefully lines himself up and pushes into Louis with the promise to take care of him. Louis believes him; trusts him nodding as he adjusts to Harry’s size. It’s been too long and Louis’ body can definitely tell as it slowly relaxes around him. Harry starts moving the second that Louis gives him the okay, his arms shaking from the long drag he feels as he gently pushes in and out.

 

The rhythm he creates is a steady one that has Louis panting within minutes as he works to meet his thrusts. Harry is attentive, acknowledging every twitch and sound that Louis makes unlike anyone else before him. He finds Louis’ spot after a few seconds of searching and Louis moans in appreciation of the electricity that sparks along his spine. He holds onto Harry, pulling him as close as physically possible to keep him hitting that same spot over and over until Louis can feel his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach.

 

He opens his mouth to tell Harry that he’s close, but Harry connects their mouths before he can, his steady rhythm practically pushing Louis over the edge as he comes between them. Harry slows his hips to a standstill when he feels Louis spurting between them. He kisses Louis through it before gradually picking up his pace again to finish inside of him with a bitten off moan into Louis’ shoulder.

 

Louis’ brain comes back to him in small increments as he feels Harry pull out of him. He doesn’t let him go too far though, grabbing onto his wrist to pull him alongside his body and keep him close. Harry brackets him with his strong arms, nosing along the shell of Louis’ ear with a soft sigh into his hair.

 

When Louis peeks up at him he finds Harry’s lips stretched in a wide grin.

 

“What are you smiling about?” Louis asks as he lightly thumbs over the pair of dimples set into the hollows of his cheeks.

 

“How amazing that was,” he drawls as he stretches to release any remaining tension in his back and shoulders. “I can’t believe we went six whole months without something so great.”

 

“I know. Let agree to never wait that long again.” It’s a good thing neither of them remembers having sex in Vegas. Louis would’ve been a goner had he realized what he was missing out on.

 

Harry chuckles at him as lies on his side in order to better see him. “I promise,” he whispers. “I’m all yours whenever you want me.”

 

Louis runs his fingers through Harry’s curls, just admiring how beautiful and wonderful he is. “I’ll always want you. Till death do us part, remember?”

 

“No, not really,” Harry smirks, “But I do recall us promising each other forever on Niall’s shitty video of our wedding.” Louis snorts a laugh. He was so very drunk that night. All of them were. He didn’t know it at the time, but it turned out to be the most important night of his life. Louis could never regret his decisions in Vegas because every one of them led him here.

 

~*~

 

Harry doesn’t renew his lease. Louis argues about it when Harry takes him with him to pack up the rest of his stuff to move it into Louis’ flat.

 

“Harry,” Louis breathes out an awed gasp as he takes the place in. “Maybe we should be doing things the other way ‘round and move all my shit in here. Fuck, this place is at least double the size of my flat. Maybe triple.”

 

Harry looks around at the flat that never quite managed to feel like home. He can still see the empty spaces left behind from Isaac’s departure. They don’t hurt anymore but he doesn’t think they’ll fade either, no matter how many of Louis’ things try to fill them. No, this flat was just a way station on the journey to where he is now. He’s found where he belongs and it isn’t this place that’s tainted with feelings of insecurity and doubt.

 

“I like your tiny flat,” Harry says instead of subjecting Louis to his inner soliloquy while he wraps his arms around Louis from behind. “Any excuse to be as close to you as possible.”

 

“Aww, Haz,” Louis coos, tilting his head back to rest on Harry’s shoulder. He relaxes into Harry’s arms for a moment before jabbing his fist towards Harry’s crotch.

 

Harry moves lightning quick and catches Louis’ hand before it can do any damage this time.

 

“You’re learning,” Louis smirks back at him, eye lashes fluttering as Harry tightens his grip on Louis’ wrist just a little.

 

“I’m learning you like it when I get soppy,” Harry murmurs into the skin just below Louis’ ear. “But you’re embarrassed to admit it.”

 

Louis whimpers when Harry starts kissing his neck, still holding Louis’ wrist in one hand while the other roams under the hem of his shirt.

 

Harry glances up at the flat that holds no sentiment for him as he lays his husband out on the living room rug. After all the unremarkable memories he’s made here, he figures, they may as well leave behind a few exceptional ones to add to its story.

 

*

 

They’ve made a day of packing Harry’s things. Louis wasn’t kidding about his flat being relatively tiny, at least in comparison to Harry’s, so most of it will have to go into storage.

 

Louis is still sitting on the floor, eating the last of the take out they ordered but Harry’s decided he’s ready to get home, so he’s back at work, bringing boxes out to the truck he’s rented.

 

“Harry?”

 

Harry sets down the box in his hands and turns at the sound of the familiar voice he hasn’t heard in six months. “Isaac, hi.”

 

He can practically feel the way Isaac’s eyes trail over his body, taking in his sheer floral shirt that isn’t buttoned even halfway and the tight white jeans on his legs.

 

“You look amazing,” Isaac tells him with a flirtatious smile on his face that Harry isn’t all that surprised to find himself immune to.

 

“Thank you,” Harry says politely, running his fingers through his hair as Isaac’s stare follows the movement. His hair is even longer now than it was when they were together but Harry likes it, likes it when Louis pulls on it when they’re fucking and tucks it lovingly behind his ear when they’re going at a slower, gentler tempo. And Louis likes it, he tells Harry as much all the time now, says he was seduced by Harry’s curls from the very start. So, Harry doesn’t really give a fuck what Isaac thinks of it. “I guess married life suits me.”

 

Isaac’s smile drops off his face in an instant. “You’re married?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry answers with a soft grin as he holds up his hand so Isaac can see the wedding ring on his finger.

 

“Harry, what’s taking so long?” Louis walks out of the building with an over exaggerated pout on his face and eyes that look way too innocent for Harry to believe. “I was missing you.”

 

“You?” Isaac blurts out upon seeing Louis wrapping himself up in Harry’s arms. “You’re the one he married?”

 

“Oh, hello,” Louis says like he hadn’t already seen Isaac standing there. “Yeah, can you believe some poor sod let this one go? Biggest mistake of his life, I’d wager. Oh. Wait.”

 

Harry doesn’t buy the trite look on Louis’ face when he mouths what Harry thinks they all know is a very sarcastic ‘sorry’ as Isaac after feigning the realization that he was the one who let Harry get away. Harry bites back a smile as Isaac huffs a ‘ _well_ ’ and walks away without another word.

 

“What an idiot,” Louis murmurs, pulling Harry back upstairs to make a few more memories before they finally finish up with packing and head home.

 

*

 

Harry vibrates with energy as they stand before the judge. They’re on separate sides of the courtroom but keep sneaking glances and besotted smiles at one another as the judge amusedly reads over the files sent by Dr. Martin.

 

“Well, it looks like you two took to marriage like a fish to water. A saltwater fish in a freshwater stream for a while but you eventually got to the ocean,” the judge smirks down at them smugly like he knew without a doubt that would be the case. “So, I guess the question is, am I still granting this annulment or not?”

 

“Not,” Harry blurts out even though he’ pretty sure the judge was simply musing at them torturously instead of asking for a reply. Technically, they can’t get an annulment now anyway, since they sort of consummated the marriage. Several times now. Like, all over their flat.

 

“If I recall correctly,” the judge turns to Harry with a sardonic eyebrow raise, “you were against the separation from the beginning, though I’d wager that had something to do with the millions of dollars that are frozen in the small one’s bank account. So, I’m not sure how much weight your vote actually carries.”

 

Harry can see Louis bristling on the other side of the court room, though whether it’s at the reminder of just how adamant Harry was about Louis sharing that money, or the way the judge is talking to him, or simply being called ‘the small one’ that Louis finds offense with, Harry can’t be sure. It’s no matter, really, since the judge simply keeps prattling on.

 

“What do you think, short stack? Do you wanna stay married to this idiot?” The judge rests his gaze on Louis.

 

“Yes,” Louis says without hesitation. It doesn’t matter that Harry knew to expect it before they even walked into the courtroom, it still makes his knees weak with relief to hear Louis say it officially.

 

“Well, alright then. I’m happy to tell you that the hold on the money will be released as soon as possible and when it inevitably leads to your first round of marital issues I hope you think of me. Congratulations boys, I now pronounce you still married. Feel free to go forth and have lots of idiot children. Case dismissed.”

 

As the gavel bangs a final time, Harry rushes to Louis’ side only to find Louis meeting him halfway. “I suppose it’s only appropriate to kiss the groom now,” Louis announces through a grin.

 

Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ neck and takes him at his word.

 

It takes them both a few days to even remember that they’re millionaires now. Of course, they would have remembered a lot sooner if they’d bothered to turn on their phones or leave their bedroom, Niall would have made sure of that. The truth of the matter is though, they both think they got something out of this whole ordeal that’s far more valuable than a few measly millions.

 

~*~

 

 

 

One Year Later

 

“Hey, babe? Can you grab my toothbrush while you’re in there? I forgot to pack it,” Louis hears his husband call through the flat.

 

Louis shoves his razor, the case for his contact lenses, and everything else on his side of the sink into his toiletry bag. “Of course, dear!” he calls back, grabbing Harry’s toothbrush like he asked before heading back to their bedroom.

 

He tosses his things into the suitcase that Harry helped him pack and then hands his husband the item he requested. “Here you go, my love,” he says, grinning when Harry thanks him. Harry tosses his toothbrush into his toiletry bag along with some other personal items and a very large, new bottle of lube that Louis spies just before his husband zips the bag up again.

 

Harry zips up his and Louis’ suitcases once he’s done double checking everything and then plops down on the bed with a long exhale.

 

“I think that’s everything,” he says as he undoes the hair-tie holding back his curls. They fall out the elastic band to frame his face and shoulders in that effortlessly perfect way that Louis has always loved.

 

“Did we remember to print the tickets?” Louis asks, coming to stand in the triangle of Harry’s legs.

 

“Yep. I have them,” he grins, his hands reaching out to lightly squeeze at Louis’ hips. The move is possessive and creates a little hum of excitement beneath his skin.

 

“Did we get the rings?” he asks, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck to settle onto his lap. Harry’s hands instinctively travel from his hips down the length of Louis thighs resting on either side of his body.

 

“I got the rings,” Harry whispers as his hands travel back up to Louis’ waist, this time going beneath the hem of his shirt to tease at his skin. They’re supposed to be leaving for the airport in half an hour. They most definitely should not stop to have sex right now, but the way Harry is playing with his nipples is making it hard for Louis to remember why exactly.

 

Harry removes one hand from beneath his shirt to cup his neck and pull Louis near. He kisses down the flushed skin of Louis’ throat, causing his dick to grow to full hardness within seconds.

 

“We’re going to be late,” Louis says through the haze of Harry mouthing at the flesh of his collarbone. “They’ll never forgive us,” he gasps as Harry lets both hands travel down to his arse to give it a nice squeeze.

 

“Our best friends are copying our entire wedding night. They can wait an extra five minutes for us,” Harry rumbles in his ear causing Louis to shiver. And yeah, okay. Louis can live with that justification if Harry is going to fuck him over their suitcases.

 

The four of them touch down in Vegas twelve hours later. Louis assumes the task of letting everyone know that they made it to Nevada safely, sending a mass group text to his and Harry’s families in order to kill a shit load of birds with one stone. He sends a lone text to his step-father, Dan, too just to reiterate that he’ll be on time for work next week when he and Harry return from their travels.

 

He smiles up at Harry when he walks over from baggage claim with their suitcases, holding back a snort when Liam and Niall glare at them because their bags have yet to come out.

 

“Everyone says hello, they love us, and for us to enjoy our trip.”

 

“Of course I’ll enjoy it. I’m with you, aren’t I?” Harry grins. Louis fondly rolls his eyes at his husband, the nice little fluttering feeling his stomach preventing him from following through with hitting him in the crotch.

 

He stands up instead to wrap his arms around Harry’s neck and kisses him until he’s grinning against Louis’ lips. “I love you so much, you giant sentimental, idiot,” Louis laughs. The moment gets interrupted when their best mates walk over to join them, now with their bags in tow.

 

“Be more obnoxious,” Niall complains, but his frown only stays on his face for a moment before Liam leans in to capture his lips in a slow kiss that adds a nice pink color to Niall’s cheeks.

 

Louis and Harry stare at them when the two of them separate and come back down to Earth.

 

“You were saying?” Louis smirks at his best mate.

 

All he gets in return is Niall biting down on a besotted grin as he tells Louis to fuck off.

 

 

 

Louis grins at his husband standing behind Liam on the other side of the altar, and feels a rush of emotions and memories flood back to him from when they were here nearly two years ago. Well, they’re not so much actual memories as they are blurs, but being here again makes Louis feel nostalgic all the same.

 

He and Harry stood in this very same, tacky wedding chapel and promised to love each other forever. They’re here again tonight, except for a slightly different reason, because it’s their two best friends who are now making that promise. Liam and Niall are mostly sober of course so they will be able to remember this happy occasion. Unlike him and Harry who ended up having a second wedding in London on their one-year anniversary just so they could do it properly. Now, _that_ ceremony Louis will remember for all eternity.

 

“The rings?” the officiator asks turning towards the two best men. Louis hands his to Niall and watches on as he tells Liam that the first time they stood across from each other in this room, he wasn’t aware that he was standing across from the best person he’d ever know. Louis has no clue what the hell is wrong with him when Niall finishes his speech and Liam starts his, his words of sentiment almost making Louis tear up. Almost, although it was very close call.

 

They each sport brand new wedding bands that are a lot fancier than the one Louis put on Harry’s finger that night. Louis still has no idea where that ring even came from. It’s irrelevant seeing as they both have beautiful ones now, but Louis is still a bit jealous.

 

Their friends kiss as husbands for the first time, falling into each other’s arms with so much feeling that Louis feels rude for watching. He averts his gaze to give them a bit of privacy, and when he looks up, Harry is standing right in front of him.

 

“Look at them,” he scoffs with a fond roll of his eyes. “Saying their vows without slurred speech. Not even using the officiator’s shoulder for balance,” he smirks. His strong hands take Louis by the waist and pull him close until they’re chest to chest.

 

“I know, right? Ungrateful amateurs. They don’t know how good they’ve got it,” Louis teases. He expects to see Harry’s eyes alight with humor, but his green eyes are serious and warm when he connects their lips.

 

“Not as good as us,” he whispers when he pulls back. And yeah. Louis kind of agrees.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to kimmysue526 and to Sammie for all the help and support! Also, Thanks to anyone reading this. We had so much fun writing it :)


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